A Rescue of Sorts
by TeenTypist
Summary: COMPLETE Story picks up on the heels of Wizards at War. Now that she knows he's alive, Dairine is determined to find Roshaun. When she finds him, she brings him back home to his parents on Wellakh. Eventual DairineRoshaun pairing. Chapter 15 posted.
1. Reunion

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_** This is my first Young Wizards fic, but if you look at my profile, clearly not my first fic.When Diane Duaneleft us with such a cliffhanger, I had to write something and the first thing that came to mind was Dairine taking Roshaun to the dentist for a cavity. Well, I had to figure out how to get him away from wherever he was, and now I think I've got a whole different sort of story here. I hope you enjoy it, and feedback is most appreciated.

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**Chapter 1: Reunion**

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Dairine spent four days trying to track Roshaun down after going to Timeheart and discovering that he was alive. When she finally found him, she did the natural thing and slugged him.

He was sitting on a quite desolate meteorite, looking over his manual-sphere and sucking on a lollipop when Dairine transited in.

Not seeing him immediately, she looked around at her surroundings as she popped in. No wonder she'd had such a time of getting a lock on his coordinates!

"Dairine?" asked the familiar voice.

She turned around and saw that her jump had taken her within yards of him. The meteorite they were on was on the small side and according to her manual made a fairly quick orbit. "Roshaun?"

As elegantly as he could, Roshaun stood and started walking toward her.

Dairine just stood there. His parents thought he was dead, she had been worried sick, and here he was just sitting on a meteorite, eating a lollipop. How dare he! When Roshaun came near enough Dairine punched him. The force sent him sprawling backwards. "Lollipops! We're all worried sick about and your parents think you're dead, and you're playing around out in space!"

Roshaun looked mostly shocked and a little indignant. The King of Wellakh was sprawled out in the dust on his rump. It was a most unbefitting situation for him. What in the Aethyrs' names made these ke Khallahan women so ill tempered?

"Well?" she snapped.

Rather than answering immediately, Roshaun stood slowly, taking care not to step closer to her or look like he was backing away. He dusted off his fingernails and looked down at his now dust-covered lollipop. With a sad sigh, he discarded it. "When I expelled so much force on your Moon, the spell backlash energy persisted on and I was dragged along with it."

"So why didn't you just transit back? Or take your world gate?" The anger had started to fade and she was feeling just the tiniest bit foolish.

Roshaun looked annoyed. "My energy stores were much depleted. Opening my 'pup tent' as you call it and creating my atmosphere bubble have taken much of my remaining energy. I'm trying to rest up and let it store again."

The thought briefly crossed her mind that he might not have enough energy to heal that lovely black eye that was starting. Roshaun with a black eye would truly be a priceless sight; she doubted it had ever happened to the young king before.

Half reluctantly she approached him, calling Spot after her. Cuts and bruises were not her specialty. Well, giving them might be, but healing them certainly wasn't.

Much to Roshaun's credit, he didn't flinch at her approach.

Spot fed her the words she needed and, placing her left hand over his right eye, she healed him. Stepping back, she asked, "Why didn't you send a message? We were all worried. Thought the worst had happened." Her voice was unusually soft for her.

He looked away, embarrassed, as though he either hadn't thought of it or hadn't wanted to admit that he'd marooned himself on a fast moving rock in space. The question remained unanswered. "We?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Me, Nita, Kit, my dad, Carmela, Filf, me, Sk—"

"You already said 'me,'" he pointed out.

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

There was a silence.

Dairine looked around for familiar planets and didn't se any she recognized. "Nice place you've got here. No Wellakhit Palace of course, but not bad." She grinned at him. "Pack up and we'll get out of here."

Roshaun gave her a looked and headed for the mid-air pull-tab spell that was his tent.

"Wait, you forgot your lollipop! Littering is illegal." She picked it up and followed him, catching up just as he entered his tent.

Dairine had to put forth her best effort not to gasp.

A large, canopied bed was against the far wall. Off to one side was an ornately craved table that probably seated about eight. However there were only two chairs there at present. On top of the table was a delicate orange tablecloth with minute beads creating a sun-emblem in the center. The grand effect was slightly spoiled by the dum-dum and tootsie pop wrappers that littered the table. A large basket that once was full of dried fruit was mostly empty now; he hadn't restocked since before going to Rashah. An armoire with a partially open door revealed a hint of what was probably another floppy white t-shirt. Half a dozen area rugs covered the floor space.

Roshaun gave her a wry look.

Dairine found her voice. "Not bad, but the wrappers kind of ruin the over all effect." She tossed the lollipop onto the table.

"I thought it prudent to relieve myself of this garment before seeing my parents or anyone else for that matter." The t-shirt was rather dust-covered in the back from his fall. "If you wouldn't mind…?"

Dairine turned around, her back to him. She could hear the sound of him walking towards his armoire and stopping.

After a few minutes he was behind her again and tapped her on the shoulder.

She gave him an appraising look and saw that he was wearing his native garb from head to foot, though a little less formal than the last time she'd seen him dressed in it—there was no intimidating red collar around his neck and no orange sapphires covering his pants. She noticed that he'd changed pants as well as his shirt, which explained why he asked her to turn around.

They exited the tent together and Roshaun put the tent spell away into his sphere.

"This galaxy isn't all that far from yours. Why didn't you use your worldgate? Gate or not, the jump transit wouldn't be beyond your ability to handle."

An annoyed expression crossed his face. "You don't understand." He turned away, crossing his arms.

A similar expression appeared on her own face and she was very tempted to punch him again. She restrained herself. "What are you talking about? What don't I understand?" She reached out for his shoulder.

There was a long pause before he finally spoke. His voice was clipped, doing his best to give nothing away. "When I arrived I was unconscious for sometime; fortunately I had an automatic life-support spell that kicked in, activating my atmosphere bubble. When I finally became aware again, I couldn't move for at least several hours. I simply didn't possess the strength to stand or summon the simplest spell beyond what was already keeping me alive. I'm not sure how long I've been here, but managing to maintain the life-support spell and access my tent have taken much of the strength I have. My stores haven't had the proper rest time refill themselves."

"Those lollipops certainly wouldn't help matters. The sugar would give you an energy rush for a little while and then bring you right back down again." She bit her lip. She understood now. He'd been too proud when she arrived to admit just how pitiful a state he'd been in. She'd told him the spell was too dangerous; he was lucky he didn't burn out completely.

The silence was awkward.

"I'll set up the transit." Within minutes the gate to Roshaun's palace was open.

They arrived in Roshaun's chambers. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, hoping he was all right. She didn't want him to think she was checking up on him. He seemed fine. Assured, she started out of the room.

"Aren't you going to change into something a little more formal?" asked Roshaun.

Dairine turned around. She gave the question a moment's thought. "No." She started for the doorway again.

"It's not proper—"

"Roshaun, are we meeting any large crowds?" she asked irately.

"Not that I am aware of at present. There's still my parents to consider though."

"Roshaun, I've met your parents. They love me, or at least tolerate me. They won't care what I'm wearing and neither should anyone else." She saw him heading towards his carved and gilded screen. "Where are you going? You _just_ put those clothes on less than ten minutes ago."

"These are not the proper garments for addressing a former king."

"Proper garments, my foot! He's not just a former king; he's your father. You should be able to stand in front of him wearing anything from your birthday suit to a tutu and it shouldn't make a difference; though, I guess I don't really recommend either of those."

Roshaun's lips twitched in an almost-smile. "An interesting idiom. 'Birthday suit'?"

Dairine blushed. "Never mind. Just come on. If you don't, I'll just have Spot guide me through. You remember the way, Spot?"

"Of course," the computer replied.

"Good." Dairine took a few steps.

Roshaun hesitated again, but joined her. As they walked through the halls he offered to summon a transport vehicle.

She gave him a questioning glance.

"It isn't much trouble. The palace is attuned to my wishes. It makes doing wizardry here much easier than elsewhere."

"That's alright. I could use the exercise. Just take smaller steps, Long Legs."

"Oh, I suppose I could, Shorty." He smiled.

When they were outside the room he knew his parents to be in, Dairine stopped him. "If it makes you feel better about the way we're dressed," she rolled her eyes, "look." The emerald was still hanging on its sentence of Speech around her neck and she pulled it out so it rested on top of her t-shirt instead of under it. She hadn't taken it off since the first time it appeared, but she'd mainly worn it under her t-shirts rather than exposed.

Roshaun looked at the jewel with a combination of admiration and something else she couldn't quite place. He seemed quite pleased. He put a hand on the door handle.

"Wait. There's one more thing." She hesitated. She'd been walking around with this in her pocket for four days now. She reached into the pocket of her cargo pants and pulled out the Sun Stone.

Roshaun's eyes grew wide with shock. "How did you…?"

"It was left behind…on the moon." She bit her lip. He didn't seem angry, just shocked.

"The color has changed. It's yellow now. The color of—"

"My sun."

"Your sun."

They both stared at the stone for a moment.

Dairine spoke a sentence in the Speech, making a chain for the great stone. She held out her hand.

Roshaun, still somewhat stunned, picked it up and fastened it around his neck.

Dairine studied it. She decided it looked better yellow; now it matched his hair. She pretended to consider for a moment before grinning. "It suits you."

Roshaun gave a small smile. "Thank you." Oddly enough, he gave the slightest of bows and Dairine gave one in return. Standing straight together, Roshaun opened the door and they entered.

His father was on the dais again, and his mother was beside him. Roshaun's first few steps were calm, but as his parents caught sight of him, he sped into a run, forgetting "royal restraint" or composure.

Dairine smiled to herself and walked behind him. There was no use attempting to catch up; his legs seemed twice as long as hers and he had something to run for. A hug.

When his mother caught sight of him, she was astonished. Her eyes welled up with tears of disbelief. It seemed to Dairine as if she flowed off the dais when she ran toward him and embraced him.

Dairine hung back, smiling. Inside her heart was breaking a little more; she remembered being hugged like that by her mom.

Lady Miril caught sight of Dairine and called her over. She gave her a tight hug, just for her and whispered. "You brought him back. My _tekeh_. You've brought Roshaun back from whence he was lost to us. We are indebted to you."

Dairine blushed and mumbled something.

Miril pulled both Dairine and Roshaun into another hug.

Nelaid had risen from the dais and taken a few steps toward the group.

His son disentangled himself from his mother and Dairine and approached him. Both men had their faces fairly masked from emotion, as though they both wanted the other to begin.

Lady Miril draped her arm comfortingly around Dairine's shoulders. "You've returned him to us, and returned to us yourself."

Dairine was sorely tempted to say something along the lines of "Aw shucks, we wanted him back too" but she refrained. Instead she said, "He's a good wizard, and a good person, even if he is a little arrogant some, or _most_ of the time. We missed him."

Roshaun's mother gave her a knowing smile, as though there were some joke Dairine wasn't quite in on yet. "I see that the Sun Stone has changed colors."

"You saw that last time too," Dairine said, a little uncomfortable. Had she expected it to change colors again?

"Yes, but now the stone not only matches your sun, but my son is wearing it." She gave a little laugh, squeezed Dairine's shoulders again, and turned her attention on the other two members of the royal family.

Roshaun and his father stood face to face; neither had broken the silence.

Finally Nelaid said, "You have returned, son. Back from the dead."

"Not quite dead, only nearly."

"You still wear the sun stone, I see."

"It was returned to me by good fortune." He glanced at Dairine out of the corner of his eye.

His father followed his eyes and his lips curved in a smile. "You took your time in arriving."

"It was a few days before I was found."

"I meant you took your time in arriving here once you returned to Wellakh. I received word from one of my men that they saw you _walking_ through the halls."

"_Someone_ preferred to walk, and I acquiesced, feeling the desire to stretch my legs farther than the stretch of the meteor I have dwelled on for the past few days."

After a moment they embraced each other, a little awkwardly and some of the tension melted away. "Come, your people shall hear of your return soon enough. We will eat, and then you shall greet them."

Dairine couldn't see his face, but she could feel the emotions in Roshaun's head. There was a lot of indecision.

"Interesting choice in clothing, son," Nelaid said, his voice almost a laugh.

"I was anxious to see you and didn't have much time to change apparel."

"You were anxious to see me? Or did someone else not want to put this meeting off?" His voice had no cruelty or spite in it, but he clearly looked past Roshaun and Dairine could feel him looking at her. Father and son walked off the dais to join Lady Miril and their guest.

"We shall feast tonight in honor of your return," his mother declared. Her tone of voice reminded Dairine of one her mother would use if she said she would cook all of her favorite foods.

They exited the hall, Nelaid ordering attendants around as they left. Dairine walked between Miril and Roshaun.

The boy on her left shot her a look. _He said _my_ people. I'm not so sure I like that._

_What are you talking about?_ she asked silently.

He shook his head slightly, indicating that he might bring the topic up later when there were fewer minds to overhear him.

Dairine had to stop herself from sighing. If he didn't want to talk now, it probably meant he wouldn't talk about it at all. Brat.

Roshaun raised an eyebrow and looked at her. _I heard that!_

_Oops._


	2. Feasting

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_ **A fast update and a long chapter this time. Right now things are really flowing. I'm really trying to keep everyone in character. Though Roshaun might have been a little over formal last chapter; I just kind of figured his pride would get in the way of him explaining how badly off his was. Thank you to my three reviewers! Chapter is dedicated to you.

There's a dance in this chapter and I've made a diagram-slideshow of the steps in case my writing is a little difficult to follow. After 3 tries I can't get the link to show up here. It is, or will be as soon as it updates itself, in my profile next to my Updates section.

Thanks for your support, and remember, I love reading feedback.**

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Chapter 2: Feasting

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Dairine looked in the mirror and made a face. She had agreed to dress up for dinner, but she didn't see the point. Really. It was _dinner_. She toyed with the idea of what to wear. Something like the green dress? Or perhaps an outfit similar to Miril's? 

She looked around her. She'd been given a guest room to wash up in and get dressed in. The rooms were similar to Roshaun's, but somewhat smaller. She preferred it that way.

Maybe she wouldn't dress up. At least, not really. "What do you think, Spot? Fresh cargos and my Star Wars t-shirt?"

"I think that defeats the purpose of 'dressing up,'" the computer said, from where it was standing on the bed. Spot had all it's legs out and was experimentally testing the bounciness of the bed.

"If you're so brilliant, what do you think I should wear?"

The image of the green dress and emerald jewelry appeared on Spot's screen. "This received a fairly good reception last time."

"A good reception from everyone except Mr. Former King." Her hair had fallen into her face and she blew it away. She looked at Spot in the mirror. "Next?"

"Anything with large stones."

She frowned. "Yeah, what is it with the jewelry obsession of the guys here? I just don't get it." There was a pause. "I guess I could wear the green dress again. I know you put it back in my closet when you changed me out of it."

"If I might make a suggestion?"

"Go for it."

An image appeared on Spot's screen. Dairine turned around to see it more fully.

"Nice, very nice. Don't know if I could walk in those heels, but very nice," she said, wondering if she could actually pull off a dress like that. It was very unlike her. The green dress had felt risky enough. She pushed back from the vanity and stood up, closing her eyes. "Alright, Spot. Go for it. Create."

The new clothes came on her in the same way as they had before, only this time she was grateful that there were no male eyes to watch her. She opened her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror. The bottom half of the dress was in the same emerald green color, but in a material closer to that of the gauzy vests that seemed popular here. It reached just below her knees in a Tinker Bell-like zigzag hem. The top part of her dress was the same red-orange that the sunstone had originally been. The neck was cut square and not too low, and the straps were made of rhinestones the size of her pinky nails. A yellow sash was tied across her waist. Coppery dress shoes completed the outfit. "You really outdid yourself, Spot."

"I try."

She spun in a circle (nearly losing her balance) and the skirt of the dress flared out a little. "Wow. Very cool." This didn't even feel like dressing up. It almost felt as though she were in costume. She spun around again and would have hit the floor if the bed hadn't caught her fall. "Don't know how long I can stand these shoes though. My feet hurt and it's only been a couple of minutes. Not to mention the problem of actually walking in them," she grumbled.

"Practice."

"Do you think they'll buy it if I say sneakers are appropriate footwear with this?"

"That would be a lie."

She groaned. She knew it was a lie, the question was whether or not they'd believe it. It didn't matter. Wizards needed to respect words and lying or twisting word s could effect their wizardry if nothing else. Dairine still had not quite mastered the art of walking in her heels when Roshaun came to collect her.

As he knocked on the door, she'd fallen and landed on the bed. High heels were vastly overrated. "Come in!" she called.

Once again he was dressed quite formally. His pants were jewel studded and the red collar had returned. He seemed to almost do a double take when he saw her. Dairine didn't blame him; she was shocked herself to find herself wearing such clothes. She noted with some humor that his formerly tan boots were now a sage green.

"Green?"

"Is there some law that says I must do Life honor in all that I wear?"

"I don't know. You tell me. I just always thought you like the color." The look on Roshaun's face gave Dairine the impression that he very much would have liked to throw something at her. She just grinned.

"You're very impudent, do you know that?" he asked.

"But of course. If I weren't, I wouldn't be me."

Roshaun offered his arm. "Best come or we'll be late."

"In a minute. Care to enlighten me on that telepathic comment earlier?"

"I don't recall," he said stiffly.

"The one about not being sure you liked the idea of all those Wellakhits being your responsibility."

"I am not so old that I desire the responsibility of kingship yet, but I shall do what is asked of me, as it is my duty to do so. Now, we must get to dinner or they'll wonder what's happened to us."

Dairine couldn't put it off any longer and made her way onto her feet with wobbly ankles. She took a few slow, experimental steps towards him. So far so good. She put her left arm through his right. "Coming, Spot?" she asked over her shoulder.

"If you have no need of me, I shall stay and run some diagnostics. You can never be too certain."

"Sure. Knock your chips off."

Roshaun and Dairine departed the room. "Chips?" he asked blankly.

"It's a saying: knock your socks off. It means 'go ahead, do whatever.' Spot doesn't where socks, so I changed it to computer chips. Never mind. Do you people even wear socks?"

Roshaun gave a half shrug and sped up their walking, not wanting to be late.

Dairine stumbled.

"Are you alright?"

She gritted her teeth. "Fine. Let's just keep going."

A few minutes later it happened again.

"Are you dizzy? Or ill?" he asked. He sounded concerned.

"Neither. It's these blasted shoes. I can't walk in them. Do you wanna call one of those nifty transport vehicles of yours by any chance?"

A couple of minutes later, a vehicle arrived. A manservant got out and helped Dairine board. They took the vehicle in silence to the dining room, stopping just outside the doors. Roshaun got down and helped Dairine out.

"Can you manage to make it to your seat inside without falling down?" he asked quietly.

"Can you manage to make it through five minutes without insulting me?" she asked grumpily. Unfortunately the question was very valid.

By walking slowly and placing her feet down carefully, they made it inside and to the table without Dairine faltering again. Nelaid was seated at the head of the table, and Miril was seated at its foot. Roshaun took a seat at his father's right. Dairine looked around for where she was supposed to sit. There were a few others at the table, though Dairine hadn't a clue who any of them where. Roshaun tried to give a pointed look in the direction of Dairine's chair. She found her seat next to Roshaun's mother after a moment and sat down.

"Now that we are all present, we may eat," Nelaid said, smiling as a gracious host.

Dairine looked around uncomfortably. She only knew three people at this table, and two of them you could barley count. Who were all the others?"

Roshaun caught her thought. "Dhairine ke Khallahan, these are the members of my father's council." One by one he introduced them to her. "And, their wives."

It suddenly occurred to her that the entire left side of the table was female, and the right side was male. If these men were members of his father's council, what did that make them to him? He was King; did that mean he got a whole new council? That could be a real pain in the butt.

Roshaun shot her another look.

This overhearing each other's thoughts thing seemed to be getting worse and worse lately. She remembered that not really being a good sign, and couldn't think of why.

The dinner was not a comfortable one for Dairine. While most of the food was delicious, she had no idea how to act and the wives of the council members were fairly sharp, trying to get information out of her. Apparently the rumors that had emerged with her last visit hadn't faded.

"Where exactly did you say you were from?" asked the woman next to her.

"Another world. Somewhere east of here," she said carefully.

"And what brings you to Wellakh? Surely not the weather; we've been suffering a drought for some time," asked another woman.

"King Roshaun is a _friend_ of mine." She put emphasize on the word friend, hoping the questions would stop. They didn't.

"Oh, for how long now?" asked the third woman.

"A good bit of time now." It was barely a month that they'd known each other. Maybe a little longer. But after all they'd been through she considered a month to be a good bit of time; the only difference was that she meant good as in quality, and they were going to assume she meant good in quantity—as though she had known him a long time. Even sitting down her feet were uncomfortable. She spoke a silent sentence in the Speech to her shoes. _You don't really want to stay clasped on my feet, do you?_ The ankle straps obediently undid themselves and fell away. She took her feet away from the shoes and let them dangle to the floor. Much better.

"What exactly do _you_ do on your planet?" asked the first woman.

Dairine sent her mind out to Roshaun. _Do they know about non-Royal wizards?_ If they only knew of wizards in the royal family, then she didn't want to rock the boat.

_Yes, there are some others_. He sounded distracted; the conversation at his end of the table was turning toward politics.

"I'm a wizard." There was no reason to add that she was still in school. She didn't' even know what sort of education system they used here. She realized too late that she should have done more research.

The faces around her registered surprise.

She stole a glance at Roshaun to see if he would be off any help. He was deep in conversation and seemed to be trying very hard not to look troubled. She whispered to his mom instead. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Here female wizards are rather unusual. _Rare_ would be the better word for it."

"Why?"

"We aren't really sure."

The curiosity about Dairine had now increased. Maybe she could just pretend to get sick. That sounded like a very good idea all of a sudden.

_Don't even think about it,_ warned Roshaun.

_Thinking too loud again, _she thought, not sure if she was asking a question or making a statement.

_No we just hear each other more and more often lately_, he replied.

"It's not unusual where I'm from," Dairine grumbled. She looked at the other women. "Male or female, wizards are just people." But no one was paying attention.

Nelaid sensed the disturbance and looked down the table at Dairine.

_Help?_ she asked silently of the former king.

Roshaun heard the request as well.

Nelaid pushed back his plate. Everyone was finished eating. "No more business. We will move on to lighter things." He clapped twice and a servant came. "Are there musicians in the palace worth hearing?"

"Yes, sir."

"Send for them immediately." The servant departed. "Does that agree with everyone?"

There were various responses of acceptance all along the table.

A few minutes later half a dozen musicians came in. Dairine was grateful. Music! Finally the attention would be off of her. She gave a sigh of relief.

Soon the musicians had started to play. The tune was slwo, but still managed to sound upbeat. The former king stood, approached his queen, bowed, and helped her up. They set off for the large open dancing space on one side of the room, arms linked. They paused facing each other, and stood about six feet apart.

_Uh-oh. I think I know where this is going_, Dairine thought. _What they heck am I going to do?_

Roshaun was already walking toward her.

_Crud_.

He bowed before her and helped her to her feet. They linked arms and followed the path his parents had taken. His face was mostly composed, with a little smile. "What happened?" There was the tiniest edge to his voice.

"They started asking too many questions."

"You're short again," he said, matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"Those shoes made you three inches taller. You're short again."

"They hurt my feet so I took them off at the table," she said, embarrassed.

"Is that acceptable where you come from?"

"Not particularly." She saw they were rapidly approaching his parents.

"It's not acceptable here either. Can you dance?"

"Probably not however you do here," she said, biting her lip.

"Just try and follow along."

Soon all five couples were standing on the dance floor in two lines.

Dairine, standing between Miril and another lady from the table, was across from Roshaun. Her mother had been a ballerina. Unlike Nita, Dairine's karate classes seemed to show that she at least some of the natural movement talents as her mother. However she'd never liked dancing. As for the heels: those were bad enough to walk in. She was grateful that she forgot to put them back on. The music started to pick up the pace a tiny bit.

Suddenly the two lines began walking towards each other, right hands up at an angle as though making a right hand turn. The women and men both walked forward and ended up with their right hands palm to palm and the each individual couple turn a circle. There were all in a straight line now, the men facing one direction and the women the other. They all turned a half turn so that the line all faced the same direction. Nelaid and Miril led the line around and into a circle. So far, Dairine felt she was doing tolerably well. As the dance started to get more complicated, Roshaun guided her with his hands and mind. The music sped up.

_Follow the other women into the middle of the circle. Watch what they do,_ Roshaun told her.

Cautiously, Dairine stepped into the middle of the circle a second behind the other women. With them, she put her right arm up in the middle of the circle. As a unit the circle began to revolve in, well, a circle. When they were in their original positions in the circle again. Roshaun was in her mind again. _Turn around and walk towards me._ All over the circle the women turned outwards and the men and women walked toward one another, meeting in the middle in a momentary pause before the men kept walking and the women stopped. The men made a pinwheel with their right elbows, forming an inner circle. The women turned and walked toward the inner circle, making the outer circle not much larger than the inner. _Walk widdershins, Dairine._ Before Dairine could ask what widdershins was, the circles began to move. The inner circle walked clockwise and the outer circle walked counter-clockwise. When they were at an even keel with one person before their original partners, both circles stopped. Except for Dairine. She crashed into the woman in front of her; it was the one who had first started questioning her. The man Dairine was in front of smoothly stepped up, taking her arms and promenading her around in a little circle; the other four couples were doing the same. It was Roshaun's father. He spoke silently to her, _You're doing fine. Just keep paying attention._

The circle moved again in the same direction as before and they continued changing partners until they had been with everyone in the circle. As Roshaun took Dairine for her final promenade she had no idea whether or not the song would continue.

He whispered aloud, a small smile on his lips. "Nearly over."

The couples let go hands. The men were at the outside of the circle and the women faced them. The men bowed. The women bowed. Roshaun took Dairine's hand and pulled her to stand next to him, just as all the other women were standing next to the men. The couples all bowed to the other couples. Dairine noted one thing; none of the other men had grabbed their partner's hand for the bow.

The song ended. A new song started up. _Oh, not again!_ she thought miserably.

Roshaun and his father both picked up on that thought and offered her wry smiles as the next tune started.


	3. Discussion

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_** This chapter has it's good and bad points as far as I'm concerned. I had a little trouble getting where I wanted to go and balancing what I wanted said with how much I think Roshaun would say in such a situation. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

There was a question on who can hear other wizards thoughts. It's more common with wizards working closely together or who are just starting to work closely (it could save their lives). Occasionally thoughts that are thought a little too loudly can be heard as well. Wizards can also do deliberate mind-to-mind speaking.

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Chapter 3: Discussion

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The dinner and dancing had finally ended and Dairine gathered up her shoes, saying goodnight to Roshaun's parents. The other guests had made their exit a few minutes before. She tried to think of what to say. "Thanks for dinner." She laughed, she sounded very stupid, but at the moment she was exhausted. And her head hurt. A lot. She hoped she wasn't coming down with something, though she could certainly use a few more days off from school.

Lady Miril smiled. "It was our pleasure. The very least we could do after all you've done for us." She put an arm around her son. "Really, if there's anything we can do for you…"

"Yes, of course. Anything at all," Nelaid added.

Dairine shook our head. "He's pulled my butt out of the fire a couple of times. I owed him one. He's not a bad kid." She grinned. The expression was overused and any monarch on any world would probably balk and being talked to so casually by a nobody from another planet. Roshaun was probably cringing at hearing his parents addressed that way. She didn't care. She laughed and wasn't sure why. Then she did the unexpected and reached out and pulled Roshaun's hair playfully. She wasn't sure why she did it; she just felt like it.

Even his father laughed at the insulted expression on his face. He sputtered, unable to find words.

"Roshaun, your people are assembled outside and waiting to see you," Nelaid said gently.

The easy moment broke. Dairine could feel Roshaun trying to block out his emotions. It wasn't a good sign.

"Very well." He turned to Dairine. "Goodbye until we meet again, Dhairine ke Khallahan." He gave a slight bow, very formal.

Dairine couldn't believe it. How could someone change gears so quickly?

Nelaid raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking that perhaps you both might go and greet them."

"Both?" Roshaun and Dairine asked.

"Dhairine, you are the reason our son has been returned to us," Lady Miril said. "They may look differently at you now."

Dairine looked from Roshaun to his parents and gave an oh-what-the-heck smile. "Why not?"

A transport vehicle was waiting for them, just outside the hall. The four of them boarded it and sat down. Dairine was grateful to be off of her feet and enjoyed the view as the walls sped past them.

At last they came again to the open patio. She started to feel apprehensive. The last time she was here, she wished she'd worn a force field. Was the reception likely to be so hostile again?

They exited the transport and the four of them went to stand at the railing, Dairine and Roshaun standing behind his parents. Nelaid spoke. "People of Wellakh, my son, King Roshaun has returned at last. He, with Dhairine ke Khallahan and their companions, have stopped the thing that has troubled you and now he has been returned to us." Miril and Nelaid stepped aside, motioning the other two forward.

Roshaun merely stepped forward and lift his chinning, scanning the crowd and looking at everyone. Dairine settled for looking at a few people at a time, and really _looking _at them.

The feelings weren't all hostile, as they had seemed before. They were mixed, as though they didn't know how to regard this new development. The new king was alive. Was that good news or bad? And the alien had saved him? Did that mean they liked the alien or not? They couldn't tell until they sorted out their feelings about the king.

Roshaun whispered to her, somewhat amazed. "They don't hate me, not all of them anyway," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dairine gave him a dry look. "You might be an insufferable, royal pain in the butt more days than not, but nobody can hate you _all_ the time."

Something about the way she said that and the look she gave him, made him laugh. It was strange how much more often he found himself laughing these days. Now was not the time to be laughing and he couldn't help it. It was short, but the smile remained on his face.

The crowd watched. Someone applauded. Not more than a couple of people, but it was some sign of approval from someone out there. Dairine gave him a half smile.

Roshaun faced his people again, put one hand up in a gesture to say he was departing, and walked away. Dairine lingered a few seconds, seeing if she could get any more definite of a sense from the crowd. She couldn't. She followed him and his parents back to the transport vehicle.

"Well, done my _tekeh_," his mother said.

His father looked proud of him as well.

That was all that was said on the subject. Nothing else needed saying.

"What does _tekeh_ mean anyway?" asked Dairine.

Roshaun actually blushed. "Darling one."

His mother smiled. "Darling one. Baby boy. Or baby girl. Sweet child."

Dairine had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. _Tekeh_. She loved this woman! His mother seemed to be the only Roshaun put on no pretenses for. Well, at least most of the time.

Miril and Nelaid got off of the transport as it neared their chambers. Roshaun directed it on toward Dairine's suite.

"That went pretty well, you know. Don't see what you were so worried about."

He gave her an annoyed look. "Standing in front of two million people—"

"Two million, six hundred thousand something, last time I checked actually."

The annoyed look progressed towards "peeved." They got off the transport and went inside her rooms.

Spot was beeping. "Incoming message received."

"Is it marked urgent?" she asked.

"No."

"I'll get to it in a minute then." She turned back to Roshaun. "Don't just stand in the doorway. Sit."

"Where?" he asked, looking around. There was a couch, the large bed, and the chair at the vanity, a writing desk, and a small breakfast table.

"Anywhere." She waved a hand dismissively and sat on the bed, curling her legs up under her. "You and I have some things to sort out."

Roshaun looked at the chair by the vanity and decided he'd feel foolish sitting there. Instead he brought over the chair from the writing desk and sat down in it.

Meanwhile Spot had walked over to Dairine.

"No bugs? Everything running smooth?"

"Affirmative," the computer replied.

"Great." She glanced at the King of Wellakh. "Settled?"

"Yes."

"Good, because I've got some questions I want answered, so you may be there a while."

The irritated expression returned to his face. If he hadn't been taught to school his emotions for so many years, he might have groaned.

"First, we'll start with something easy. Why the shortage of women wizards here? Kill them all off?" She was thinking of the sixteenth century witch trials; though truth be told, most of those women were not wizards.

"No. They simply don't tend to exist; not here anyway. A lot of focus of our power here is toward the sun. The ruling family keeps the sun in check; the sun helps or harms the crops and land, as it will. After that joke about my wardrobe I would think you understood her importance."

"Her?" Dairine asked.

"Yes. For us the Sun is like your Mother Earth. Scientifically we may know that she is not all powerful, but as a cultural icon. I don't just dress in gold because that's the way it has always been; it means something to me personally as well." He paused.

"I'm sorry, but I still don't see the connection."

There was a glint in his eye and she knew that the next words to come out of his mouth were probably going to be somewhat insulting. "The Wellakhit Sun is very similar to a female. Temperamental, too bright for her own good, and very stubborn."

Dairine threw a pillow at him when he grinned smugly.

"Get on with it." She scowled and crossed her arms.

Though Dairine's aim was dead on, he managed to catch the pillow, he contemplated putting it down, but threw it back instead. "The point, Dhairine, is that women are too like our Sun to be able to function working with it. Men on the other hand, are not. We're opposite and opposites work well together. When people or entities are too similar they knock heads. I will say this though: the few female wizards anyone can ever remember here have been very strong." His tone was more serious than before.

"Now for the tough one, Roshaun. Why the panic?"

"What?" He looked startled.

"Don't act as though you don't remember, because I'm not going to fall for it and wizards shouldn't lie. The last time we were here you weren't sure if you could give the people what they wanted or need. Now, you're still not sure. If I'm not far wrong, you don't even know if you want to be king judging from what you said earlier. Well, what you _thought_ earlier." She crossed her arms and waited for an answer.

Roshaun said nothing for a long time. He stared at the floor.

Dairine waited, studying what she could see of his face. "This really bothers you, doesn't it?" she finally asked, softly.

He looked up at her and blinked. "It's not just my age. The people are, I think, dissatisfied with kings unless they are the legendary sorts that can do no wrong. I am…fallible. I am not sure I wish to partake in the burden of kingship."

"What's your father's council for? Don't they help?"

The laugh didn't have any humor in it. "Father had once thought to delegate things between himself and the committee but was unsatisfied with the results. Now it seems too late to get of them. We'd assumed that having a few more people involved in decision-making would appease the public and help relieve a little of the burden. We were wrong."

"We?"

He looked her in the eyes. "As much as my father and I have differing opinions, he does still confer with me on certain matters. As the next king, his idea of creating a council was told to me and asked my opinion before it was implemented."

"And?"

"I was 12. I didn't think it was a very good idea." He paused. "I wanted to grow up and control it all myself."

"And now?" This was like pulling teeth. We couldn't he just talk?

"I don't know. The council now clearly does not contribute well enough. Among themselves they can reach no consensus. Their ideas are outdated. They were supposed to be a link to the public, and now the public despises them as well as the royal family."

Dairine lay down on the bed and Spot sidled up to her. Her head still hurt and her eyes were starting to get a little blurry. "Is it really that bad here?" She thought to the assassination attempts his mother had mentioned on the previous visit. No matter how much some people in her country hated the president—someone always hated the president no matter which side was in power—relatively few assassination attempts had ever been made. In the whole line of presidents over the past two hundred-odd years only two had ever been successfully assassinated. "Never mind. I guess it is."

"I don't know what's right to do here. I want what is best for everyone, but no situation is like that; someone _always_ loses." He looked down at his feet.

"Cheer up."

He looked at her sharply. " 'Cheer up'? Is that the best advice you can offer at a time like this?"

Dairine shrugged. She wasn't feeling too well.

Despite the fact that he was angry, he laughed. It was short and without much humor in it, but what else could you do in a situation when someone says the most pointless thing when you really need help? He glanced up at her. He noted that the humanoid wasn't looking too well. "Dhairine?"

"Hmm?" she responded, opening her eyes. She didn't remember closing them.

"Are you alright?"

"Nnnng. I should probably head home." She sat up and had to steady herself against dizziness for a moment.

"You don't look well." Concern was started to creep into his voice. He wondered if she was sick.

He wondered the thought a little too loudly.

"I never get sick." That wasn't exactly true; she just usually kept to her normal routine and work, even when she was sick.

"I don't think you should be doing any spells tonight." His tone was firm and he stood up, still looking at her.

"Fine…I'll get and go home. I could use the sleep anyway." Contrary to her words, she lay down again. Her head was throbbing and her eyes hurt. "Jus' let me rest a minute."

"You should stay here."

"I've got to go back home. I've got Pre-cal homework." She tried to sit up and a hand pressed her shoulder down. "Let go."

"I'm not touching you." It was true; he'd used wizardry to keep her from getting up. "You're sick. You need to stay here and rest," he added firmly.

"I don't get sick. I need to get home," she said weakly. He was already gone, walking out of the room and down the hall.

Dairine decided she'd close her eyes and rest a minute before doing the transit spell for home. It was a fair sized jump.

She didn't hear Spot mention an incoming message marked URGENT.


	4. Sickness and Health

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_** The chapter I like…for the most part. It's really long actually, but I was having trouble finding a stopping place. As it is, it kind of cuts off abruptly. As always, enjoy and I'll try to update ASAP.

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**Chapter 4: Sickness and Health**

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The next thing she knew was that several people were around her and one was holding her right eye open. That individual then let the eye close and opened her left.

"Yes, she has the look of illness about her. Nothing serious, but you can see in the glassiness of her eyes that she is most certainly not well." The brisk voice belonged to a woman sitting in a chair next to the bed; a woman that Dairine had never met before. When she let go of the left eye it shut of its own accord.

"Is she supposed to be so…short?" asked another voice, uncertainly. This voice was younger.

"Well?" the woman asked.

A different voice answered, a voice Dairine knew. "Yes, apparently in her world many of them never reach very much higher than that."

She groaned. "Would you quit talking about me like I'm not here?" The words came out as little more than a mumble. She opened her eyes, attempting to sit up.

"Dhairine!" Roshaun, said surprise registering on his face and in his voice for a few seconds.

"Who'd you expect? The tooth fairy?" The joke was lost on every one of her listeners, but the sarcastic tone did not go unnoticed.

"Is she always like this?" asked the owner of the first voice, a little exasperated.

Roshaun, sitting on the edge of the bed, replied with wry humor. "In my experience: yes."

The doctor, for it became clear that that's what the person in the chair was, helped Dairine sit up. "Your eyes are glassy and your head is fevered. Comments like that last one aren't going to help you. You need—" She turned to the young woman standing behind her. "Meera, do you know what the remedy is?"

"Rest and keriztal root tea given eight times a day over the next three days?" answered the owner of what Dairine had before identified as the second voice. She sounded slightly uncertain.

"Correct. Your studies are coming along marvelously." She motioned for the younger woman to follow her out of the room.

Dairine was left alone with Roshaun and his mother. "_Tekeh_, why didn't you tell us you were sick?" It was the first time Roshaun's mother had spoken since Dairine woke up. She moved from where she had been standing out of the way and sat in the chair the doctor had been in, moving it closer to the bed. She smoothed Dairine's hair down on her forehead.

She wanted to protest and say she wasn't sick but now, she realized that that would be one of the biggest lies she'd ever told. Instead she just slumped down against the bed. "I don't get it. How could I have gotten sick? I never get sick."

"So you say. But look at the facts. In very recent days you over run yourself ragged in assisting in fixing your home star, functioning largely in the group that saved our universe, and when you should have rested from all of that, you went off hunting for me. Illness is your body's way of telling you to slow down and rest for a few days," Roshaun admonished dryly.

"It looks as though you'll be staying here at least a few days, but you're welcome to stay as long as you like." Miril's voice was comforting. She shot her son a strong look of disapproval for his lecturing.

Dairine knew that protesting against any of this would be useless. There was only one thing she could think to say and she said it wholeheartedly. "Thank you." She made a vague note in the back of her mind about contacting her family. With the odd way aging worked on the planet, she wasn't even sure if time ran the same way.

Lady Miril stood and went over to a dresser and pulled out a nightgown-like article of clothing and a white bonnet of sorts. She almost seemed to float, rather than walk. Dairine's head was so fuzzy at the moment though that she couldn't think of whom she reminded her. Not even bothering to turn around, she addressed her son. "Roshaun, _out_."

"Mother—"

"_Out_. You may come back later. Let Dhairine dress in peace."

Wordlessly and with an unreadable look on his face, Roshaun exited the room.

Lady Miril sighed and walked over to the bed. "A few days of resting here and you'll be fine." She helped her out of her fancy dress and into the nightgown. If Dairine hadn't felt so ill already she might have blanched at the pink ribbons on the puffy sleeves. Lady Miril gathered Dairine's hair into the bonnet and tied it on.

Dairine looked at her quizzically and touched the back of the bonnet. "What's this for?"

"Your hair is on the shorter side, but many of us wear our hair up like this to avoid knots as we sleep. It makes the work easier in the morning."

Dairine couldn't imagine taking care of as much hair as Roshaun or his mother had. The image of Roshaun wearing a dorky cap like the one on her head was priceless. She laughed until she started coughing. She settled down again, wondering how long it had been since he'd had a haircut.

"_Tekeh_, you may come in, I know you're out there," Lady Miril called.

Roshaun walked in, looking as dignified as he could.

Dairine looked at Roshaun's mom. "Are you a wizard?"

"No. As I told you earlier, female wizards are very uncommon here."

"Then how…?" asked Dairine.

Lady Miril smiled as she smoothed the blankets and stood to her feet. "A mother just knows these things." She glanced adoringly at her son, and then pursed her lips attempting to look as though she was scolding him. "Don't stay too long, Roshaun. Dhairine is going to need her rest. Understood?"

Roshaun's voice sounded as though he wanted to roll his eyes and Dairine mentally applauded. "Yes, Mother. Not too long. Goodnight."

Smiling and wishing Dairine a good night, Lady Miril left.

Spot sidled up to Dairine and poked her with one of the jointed legs that allowed it to move. "Urgent message!" the computer said.

Roshaun sat in the vacated chair, his face a touch worried. "I think you'd better answer that."

Dairine looked over at her computer. "Alright, Spot. Open message."

"Messages," the computer corrected.

Dairine watched the screen as seven messages appeared. The first had been sent hours earlier from her sister.

**#1 Juanita Callahan:** Where are you, runt? It's dinner and I haven't seen you for hours. You've left the planet again.

**#2 Juanita Callahan:** This isn't funny, Dari, where are you? Nobody has seen you. You know you're supposed to tell somebody before you leave the solar system like this!

**#3 Christopher Rodriguez:** Dairine, your sister is getting worried about you. What the heck did you leave the solar system for without telling anybody? You've been gone for hours and your dad's gonna blow a gasket if you don't at least send word soon and Neets isn't far behind him.

**#4 Juanita Callahan:** Dairine! Send word. Please. We're worried sick. Your listing doesn't even say Active Status now. It says LEAVE OF ABSENCE. Send word.

**#5 Sker'ret:** I just received word from your sibling that you're missing. Please return home by way of the Crossings so I know you're all right.

**#6 Tom Swale:** Dairine, we're going to have to ground you again. This sort of planet jumping isn't healthy. We can't find you in a crisis. Carl and I hope you're not hurt somewhere.

**#7 Juanita Callahan:** The manual finally decided to cough up your coordinates. It's near midnight here and Dad's worried sick and so are the rest of us. We know where you are now and I'm coming to get you if you don't send an answer soon. We're still worried.

"Oops." The word didn't do the sentiment justice. She'd messed up. Sure, Nita knew that she'd been hopping around off planet the last few days trying to find Roshaun, but Nita thought that was just a last effort to avoid admitting he was dead. Well, he wasn't dead and she had found him. She hadn't expected to be gone this long though.

She wondered at the "leave of absence" message. It probably meant that the powers knew she was out of commission for a few days and were letting her rest up. She wondered why her coordinates hadn't appeared earlier. She couldn't have been on the comet the whole time they were looking for her. Space just hadn't quite recovered all the way from the Pullulus yet, she supposed.

Dairine glanced at the list of names again. Kit, Nita, Tom, and Sker'ret. Nita must have really been freaked out. She'd have a lot of explaining to do before she got home. "Spot, are you ready to send messages for me?"

"Affirmative."

"Good. First message is to Juanita Callahan. _Neets. I'm sorry. I hadn't meant to be gone this long. It's a _long_ story. I found Roshaun and he's not dead. I'm back on Wellakh but I've got a flu I think. I'll be out of commission for a few days from what they tell me. Just have Dad call me in sick; it's the truth. Goodnight. Dari._

She sent similar messages to Kit, Sker'ret, Tom, and Carl, letting them know that she was okay. Then she sighed, laying back against the soft pillows and closing her eyes.

"Dhairine?"

"Hmm?"

She could sense his hesitation, but couldn't find any solid thoughts to connect the feeling to. Roshaun leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight." He sat back down in the chair again, trying to make himself comfortable.

Dairine rolled over, facing away from him, and smiled just a little.

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For Dairine it felt as though her eyes had only been closed for a few seconds when someone was sitting her up and holding a cup to her lips. The room was very dimly lit now. She recognized the voice of the young woman who had been assisting the doctor—or whatever the term for the medical professional was here.

"Sit up, that's it. Take a big sip. You have to drink the whole thing."

For the initial sip tasted bitter and disgusting, but after that the rest of the cup tasted like…honestly? It tasted like a grape flavored Dum-Dum.

When the cup was empty, Meera set it down by the bed. "I'll be back in a while to administer some more. For now, go to sleep." Meera looked over at Roshaun. "Comfortable?" she asked.

"Just fine, thank you," he grumbled.

Dairine glanced at him at the corner of her eye. He'd been asleep in the chair next to the bed. Was it just her or did putting up with that sort of discomfort seem uncharacteristic for the new King of Wellakh?

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The next time Meera woke her up, the medicine had no bitter taste; just the grape. This time when Dairine looked at Roshaun, he was awake again, but someone had covered him with a blanket.

"Go to sleep. I'll be back again," Meera told her. And she did. When Dairine woke up the next time Roshaun was still in the chair and the medicine still tasted of grape.

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When Dairine woke up for the final time, Meera had just come in. Roshaun was asleep in the chair and she watched him for a moment. He was asleep and he looked peaceful. As Meera's footsteps approached, he opened his eyes and sat up a little. He reached up a hand to rub out the crick in his neck.

Meera had the cup with her again of course.

Being a little more awake this time, Dairine sat herself up. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Roshaun muttering something.

Dairine drank the cup of medicinal tea that Meera gave her, still watching Roshaun out of the corner of her eye. He kept up his muttering until she was about halfway done with the tea, and then he slumped back in the chair for a few seconds before sitting straighter again. She was fairly sure he'd done something to the tea.

It still tasted of grape Dum-Dums.

Meera spoke. "You can go back to sleep if you'd like, but most people are up and about now. I'll be back in a while to bring you more keriztal root tea. I'm sorry you've got to drink so much of it. Someone will be in with a breakfast plate in a while." She glanced at Roshaun. "Shall I instruct your breakfast to be sent in here too?"

He gave her a sharp look and she left.

Dairine turned to face sideways on the bed, curling her legs up under her. "What'd you do to the tea?" She was mostly curious and tried not to sound too hostile; he shouldn't be spelling right now. He'd promised to rest up and let his powers come back.

"For your information I didn't do anything other than put a sort of seeming on it to make it seem as though it tasted better. I didn't _actually_ change any of the tea's properties or contents. And my powers have rested well enough. Here, I can draw on energy from my sun and it comes back to me more quickly than when I'm abroad."

She stretched her arms and coughed. She definitely had the body ache symptoms of the flu. Her limbs were sore and her head felt like a balloon. "I still don't understand. I was only back at school for four days. How could I get sick?" She knew the answer. Put that many kids in a classroom and somebody who is sick and came to school anyway is going to cough or sneeze on you and if your body's immune system isn't acting up to par you're probably going to get sick. She'd been working herself crazy between catching up on schoolwork and looking for Roshaun and everything that happened before that. Illness was inevitable.

Roshaun didn't bother answering the question. He knew she knew the answer, and she knew that he knew the answer. "Did you sleep well?"

"As well as can be expected. The bed was comfortable but I had to keep waking up for that tea."

Roshaun grimaced. "I know. Even I've been ill once or twice. The tea sweats the virus out of your system and helps to strengthen your body's defenses against more germs."

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Dairine said, wondering if it was breakfast.

Two girls came in with large trays. There were whispering to one another. "I told you he'd be in here," one whispered to the other.

Unfortuantely she wasn't quiet enough. Dairine and Roshaun both heard her. Roshaun turned a glare on her that nearly made her drop the tray.

"I beg your pardon, sir," she said hastily, putting the tray down hastily at the small breakfast table on the other side of the room. Her friend joined her in putting the second tray down. "If either of you needs anything, just call." They hastened out of the room.

Roshaun frowned as the door shut. "I do not like gossips."

Dairine had to try very hard to keep from laughing at hearing Roshaun called "sir;" it just seemed so odd. "Well, we might as well eat since the food's here," she said, throwing back the blankets and swinging her legs over the side of bed—her exuberance was an attempt to act as though she no longer felt ill. It didn't work; her body betrayed her. She got dizzy standing up too fast and her legs felt weak. They might have gone out from under heard if Roshaun hadn't reached out to steady her.

HE guided her back to a seated position on the bed and said a quick levitation spell, bringing the table and trays neatly to the bedside.

"Show off," she said, without any malice behind the words.

He brought the chair he'd slept in up to the table.

"So what is all this?" Dairine asked, gesturing at the assortment of food.

"Breakfast," he replied simply.

That much was obvious, but Dairine typically liked to know what she was eating before it went in her mouth. There was a large assortment of fruits, a stack of something that vaguely resembled crepes, and a glass of a fruity looking punch. She took a bite of a crepe-like thing and found it tasted delicious.

"Are there always so many people around at dinner? And is the dancing a usual thing?"

"Often, not always. There are usually at least a few present; running a country doesn't allow time for dinner breaks. The dancing was merely for your benefit." There was the slightest of smiles, but he hid it by taking a sip of his punch.

Dairine snorted. "My benefit? My feet ached all night and I felt like an idiot. Nobody has danced like that back home for a couple hundred years."

Roshaun arched an eyebrow. "What sort of dancing _do_ you do thre? I don't believe that was covered on the Excursus."

"On the Excursus we were a little busy trying to save my home world if you don't remember." She felt a little stupid; back home dancing mostly consisted of jumping up and down with your arms in the air or rubbing against on another indecently on the dance floor. She had no desire to demonstrate either of those. "There are a lot of varieties of music, each with its own sort of dancing."

"Show me."

Dairine was a little affronted by the commanding tone but she stood anyway and started humming the Macarena. At least it was something with a definite tune she knew and definite steps; it would help her feel less stupid. She began and ran it through twice.

Roshaun just watched, curious.

With a final shake, Dairine ended and looking at Roshaun. The saying went: if you're going to mess up, do it in a big way and with utter confidence and people will think that's the way it's supposed to be.

"How do you dance like that in a group? It seems very individualistic."

"Oh, you just stand in a line, or lines, and try not to hit anybody."

Roshaun stood next to her, asking her to demonstrate again. He was a fast learner but his attitude towards the moves themselves was somewhat awkward. However, he quickly improved.

"There other types of music as well?"

"We got some music nearly 500 years old, and other music that's new, but still different from anything else. There's line dancing, hip hop, ballet, tap, swing, ballroom…there doesn't seem to be an end to all of them." She shrugged, sitting back on the bed.

"Would you show me another example…if you're not feeling too ill?" There was a little bit of a challenge in his voice. He was challenging Dairine, the girl who thought she was invincible and who had caught the flu.

Dairine had started to feel a little dizzy again, hence the reason she'd sat down, but she stood. "Alright. Let's see what it'll be." She thought for a moment and started humming a slow song.

Roshaun put his arms out. "What do I do?"

Dairine looked at him, not letting the nervousness show in her face. She tried to keep it out of her mind as well; she always felt a little self-conscious when she was dancing. She stood across from him, away from the breakfast table, and reached out, putting her hands on his shoulders and directing his to go at her waist. _Step forward, step to the right, step backwards, step to the left. _It was a little confusing for her because she had to think his steps, while doing the opposite ones so as to match him. "Spot, would you play the song? Humming gives me a headache," she said.

"You had a headache before you started humming," Roshaun pointed out.

Dairine made no comment and Spot picked up where she had left off. The song continued, one song melting into another. Similarly, Roshaun and Dairine, who had started out about as far apart as Dairine's arms were long, were being drawn together. Initially Dairine had had a hand on each of his shoulders, and his hands had mimicked hers on her waist. Somehow, as the music went on, Dairine found that Roshaun's arms went all the way around her and her arms were the same way around his neck.

Just as Dairine unconsciously started to lay her head against him, she sneezed. The moment was broken.

She blushed and reached into her other-space pocket for a pocket pack of tissue. She wiped her own face and handed the pack to Roshaun. With a look of mild disgust, he wiped off any germs that might have landed on him.

There was a knock at the door and they sprang away from each other. 


	5. Average Day

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_** This chapter was long in coming due to an overpacked schedule, college aps, and indecision. There's a whole other version of the chapter on my desktop but this one was more in-character and followed my half-formed plan best, so this is what I went with. Not very long, but I promise I have started the next chapter. Thank you for your reviews, everyone! They mean a lot to me.

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**Chapter 5: Average Day **

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One of the servant girls had returned to collect the trays and a little shock registered on her face at seeing the two of them there, and then she smiled knowingly. She ducked her head down before Roshaun saw. She didn't want him thinking she was acting out of line. Who knew what he'd do? 

"Sir, the Agriculturist requests your presence. Your meeting started twenty minutes ago," she said, not daring to look up.

Roshaun just barely prevented himself from saying a word his mother would not have approved of; however he thought it awfully hard.

_Language_, Dairine teased, though she didn't know what that particular obscenity meant.

He looked at her with an "I don't need your attitude right now" look; it was a look that Dairine had seen often on the faces of multiple people and she recognized it easily.

"Tell him I will be along shortly," Roshaun instructed.

With a bow-like nod, the girl exited.

Roshaun looked a Dairine with a touch of regret. "I must be going. I'll return after my business has been taken care of." He left.

As much as she missed the distraction of his company, ten minutes later Dairine was grateful to he was gone as she found a bucket of sorts to vomit in. After wiping her mouth she went looking around the room to see if there was a door leading to a bathroom; there was. She wondered how she hadn't noticed it before?

It was decorated in orange, as was to be expected.

Her stomach rebelled again. The taste in her mouth was absolutely horrid. Standing again she glanced in a mirror. She was still wearing the dorky looking bonnet and nightgown with the pink ribbon. They simply had to go very soon.

She decided to take a long bath in the tub-like thing at the center of the room. After fiddling with the taps for a few moments she got the hot water working. She even found a tap that let out soapy liquid for bubbles. Dairine grinned. She was starting to feel better already. She left to check on Spot.

"Anything new?"

"One message received."

"Alright. Spill," Dairine said, rummaging through her other-space pocket to see if she had any clothing there; she didn't. She needed to start prepping better for these jaunts. What she really needed was one of those pup-tents.

Spot read out the when and where the message had come from and then switched into her sister's voice. "_You've got a lot to learn about responsibility, but I'm glad you're okay, Runt. Dad's not happy about it. Come home as soon as you can and try and get some homework done if you can. It takes time for even super-geniuses like you to catch up on two weeks of work. Everybody sends their love._ End message."

"Ready to send a reply?"

"Ready."

"_Don't call me 'runt.' Yeah, yeah, I'll get to the homework. Right now I need to do some reading about Wellakh. Tell the gang I miss them. I hope Kit's doing all right; I know things haven't been the same since the moon._ End message. Got it?"

"Of course."

"Good. She should be at school now. Probably. But if any messages come for me, hold them. I'm taking a bath." That said she went back into the bathroom for a good long soak.

Shrugging out of her clothes and making sure there was a towel close at hand, she sank into the water. Her limbs started to relax. How long had it been since she'd taken the time for a good bubble bath? Ages. Normally it was a five-minute shower in the morning.

Hmm. Wellakh certainly did have good points about it. She hoped she could sort out that drought problem before leaving though. It had to be tough taking over kingship in a land that was struggling and wasn't too fond of the monarch…and maybe the monarch wasn't too fond of it?

_There_ was a thought worth mulling over. He did seem reluctant. His words wandered around her mind. _What do they want? What I'm not sure I can give them. He said _my_ people. I'm not so sure I like that. They don't all hate me._ She remembered the amazement in his voice during that last statement. What did the King of Wellakh want to give up: his crown or the whole planet in general?

She sighed. Sometimes she wished she had what Nita and Kit had. A partner in wizardry. Someone to bounce ideas off of. Sure, she had Spot, and the relationship was unique to say the least, but Spot wasn't a person in the sense of a person she could relate to best. She wanted a human. Somebody she could relate to on more levels than just discussion on the complexity of a spell. Fat chance of that. She didn't get along very well with most humans.

What to do about that drought?

She'd have to research the causes a little more to find out. That could wait until after her bath.

She relaxed again. She blinked. Here Wellakh was with a drought going on, and she was taking a bath. She felt more than a little abashed, but at this point getting out would do no good, so there was no sense in getting out of the water.

There was a faint knocking sound coming from the outer door. She almost didn't hear it. "Who is it?" she shouted.

"Meera. I've got brought your next dose."

Dairine made a face. "Come in!"

Meera entered and didn't see her in the room. Looking around she saw the door to the bathroom was ajar.

"I'm decent," Dairine said. The bubbles still covered the entire surface of the water.

Meera entered with the goblet of tea. She looked around. "The hot water should help clear up your stuffed nose."

Dairine sniffed experimentally. "It already has."

"Drink this," Meera said, holding out the goblet.

Bringing her arms out from under the water, Dairine pinched her nose with one hand and poured the foul liquid down her throat with the other. She tried not to make a face.

"You're improving. You no longer appear feverish of glassy-eyed. I'll—"

"Be back later for the next dose," Dairine finished. "I kind of figured you would."

Meera gave a slight smile. "Power and a sense of humor? Most unusual compared to the one who usually skulks around here."

"Roshaun? He's got a sense of humor…once in a while."

"I'll be back later," Meera said, trying not to laugh. She made her exit.

Dairine tried to stay in the water, but she couldn't relax. There was too much to do. Forget about homework; she needed to research. She toweled off and went into her room, looking for the clothes she'd arrived to Wellakh in. She found them, folded up in the dresser. A _Star Wars_ t-shirt and cargo pants; what could be more comfortable?

When Miril came in, Dairine was curled up on the bed with her computer in her lap. Lady Miril was followed by two girls with lunch trays. "Dhairine, how are you feeling?"

"Not so feverish today, but still sick," she admitted.

"You'll be well soon. I thought we might have lunch together."

Dairine wasn't sure if her stomach would put up with being fed again, but she agreed. If anyone around here was going to give her an honest idea of the political situation on Wellakh it would be Lady Miril.

The maids brought over the table and chair. While one of them uncovered the lunch trays, the other fluffed Dairine's pillows.

Lady Miril dismissed the girls with a wave.

Dairine looked at her platter. A reddish-brown soup-ish thing that looked spicy, a bread-thing with greens and maybe cheese grilled onto it. To her surprise there were no spoons.

Lady Miril led by example, dunking her bread into the soup and eating it that way.

Dairine tried it and was surprised; the bread was fairly absorbent, but didn't become soggy. As they settled into eating, Dairine asked, "How long has Nelaid's family been in power?"

"Forty generations or more. Since the beginning the line hasn't been broken."

Dairine whistled. Since the taming of the sun? That's a long time. "Have things always been…like they are now?" Has the populus always tried to assassinate the royal family?

Lady Miril gave a sad smile. "From what I understand, yes, off and on. They first turned to the family out respect and fear when he saved them from the sun. But in the years since as things prosper and fail, so do the people and their feelings toward their king. The last few successions have been particularly difficult."

"Any reason why?"

"When the road is rocky, people look for someone to blame for placing the stones in it," Lady Miril said, quoting an ancient proverb.

Dairine nodded, she got the analogy. Society was always looking for a scapegoat; who better than the man in charge of everything?

Lady Miril sighed. "The sun has become too hot. It's nowhere near warm enough to burst, but hot enough to squeeze the water from the land. Starvation hasn't set in yet, but it's on everyone's minds." She looked at Dairine. "I won't bore you with anymore politics." She tucked Dairine into bed and kissed her on the forehead. "I know it's not time to sleep, but at least try to get some rest. I'm sue Roshaun will be in to see you in a while." She smiled and left. 


	6. A Visitor

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_** New chapter! Yay. I'll leave you to your reading. Thanks for you all your reviews. Side note: made-up words in this chapter have no arcane meaning, just forewarning you not to look for any.

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**Chapter 6: A Visitor**

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Dairine did not even attempt to "rest." She had too much to do. She untucked herself a little from the blankets and whistled for Spot to come over to her. She went back to her reading, skipping ahead to more recent events; starting her reading about four kings back from Roshaun's father. 

About fifteen minutes after Lady Miril had departed, Dairine was losing her lunch in the bathroom, whishing she had something to tie her hair back with as she clutched the basin. She felt someone grab her hair and hold it back, ignoring the spittle on the end, and was grateful to whatever maid had come in to remove the trays and end her distress.

When she was fairly sure she was done retching for the moment, the maid handed her a towel for her mouth. Dairine took it appreciatively. She wiped her mouth and then stood to look at the maid. Her eyes widened. It wasn't a maid. It wasn't even a girl.

"Roshaun?" She was decidedly embarrassed. Her face went from green to red faster than a traffic light.

"I thought you'd be glad to see me."

Dairine found herself unable to think of something to say. He said he would be coming back, what a time to come back! She glanced at him and tried to stop thinking.

Roshaun left the room, sensing her unease. He decided it would be better if he didn't start laughing while he was still standing there. It wasn't her illness he found funny; he'd been there himself. It was that she seemed so awkward at the moment. He waited in the chair by her bed.

There was a knock on the door. Roshaun got up and opened it. The girl who had reminded him about his meeting this morninghad returned.

"I didn't expect you here, sir, sorry. I just came to take the lunch trays," she said, inclining her head.

He stepped aside so she could enter.

Dairine searched and searched for something to clean her mouth out with. She couldn't seem to find anything. She reminded herself again that before she did anymore inter-planetary traveling she need to create a pup-tent of her own to carry around things like toothpaste and food in.

She waited another couple of minutes, hoping that maybe he would be gone when she went back into her room. He was still there, and talking to one of the maids. The maid handed him something and left with the lunch trays. Dairine walked into the room and crawled under the blankets, half-hoping Roshaun would leave with the girl. She heard the door open and shut and she peeked an eye out. He was still there and he was looking straight at her.

His mouth twitched in an amused smile.

Dairine realized how ridiculous she must look and came out from under the blankets, trying not to look any stupider.

Roshaun took a moment to move the table aside and pull the chair back over to the bed, allowing Dairine a moment to smooth out the bedcovers and regain a little of her lost dignity at the same time.

He waited for her to say something, but there was nothing she wanted to say at the moment that wouldn't make her appear childish. What was she supposed to do: yell at him for walking in, or thank him for holding her hair back?

"I thought you might like some company," he said, clearly ill at ease.

"Thank you. How was your meeting?" she offered. If that didn't sound ridiculous, nothing would.

"It could have gone much better, but it still could have gone worse," he replied evasively. "Neither my father nor the Head Agriculturist were pleased at the lateness of my arrival, and the meeting was a far from productive. No one said anything I didn't already know. It's ridiculous; there's nothing we can do until the wizards monitoring our weather system have some answers for us." He sounded bitter and a little helpless.

Dairine nodded sympathetically; she knew the feeling exactly. She knew what it was like to have power not be able to help anyone with it.

"And how about your day?" he asked.

Dairine laughed dryly. "You saw my day when you came in."

"Surely not all day? That would be exhausting."

She glared at him.

"Too soon for jokes?" he asked blithely.

"After you left I took a bath, drank more of that disgusting tea, and ate lunch with your mother."

"Which left you in the condition in which I found you, I presume?"

"Most unfortunately."

"Clearly the best part of your day was when I was here this morning." He looked around the room casually.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" She settled further into the bed, feeling a little cold.

Roshaun summoned an ottoman from his rooms and crossed his legs up on it. "It certainly does." Neither of them would be moving for a while.

"You can stay for a while if you want." She yawned.

"I'll do that."

"Do you know how to play 'I Spy'?" Dairine asked, looking around the room.

"I can't say I've heard of it."

Dairine proceeded to explain the rules as she searched for an object. "Okay, so here we go. I spy with my little eye, something…a ghastly shade of pink."

Roshaun looked around. Lots of orange and yellow in the room, not much pink. "Is it something you brought with you from home?"

"No."

He looked around, not seeing anything pink. "Is it visible from where I'm sitting?"

"It should be."

He still couldn't find anything, but he refused to give up. "Is it something that was painted pink?"

"Nope." Dairine grinned. Torturing Roshaun might be her new favorite pastime. She tried to keep her eyes away from what she was looking at.

Roshaun soon caught on, and tried to figure out where Dhairine wasn't looking, which was easier said than done. Finally he caught sight of it. "Is it the pink ribbon from your nightcap, lying over there by the door?"

Dairine scowled. She was sure he wasn't going to figure it out for at least another ten minutes or so. "Alright, your turn."

Roshaun scanned the room, trying to find something minor enough to escape her notice; not easy considering she'd be in the room constantly for two days. Perhaps something that hadn't been in the room with her for two days could escape her notice. "I spy something…soft."

"That's not fair! That's too vague. I picked a color; a color there wasn't a lot of in here."

"And that is why it is going to take you longer to figure this out than it took me." He looked very satisfied that he had properly stumped the ke Khallahan girl at last.

Dairine was determined not to give up, but the scowl refused to budge from her face.

"There was never anything the rules that said I had to name a color," he reminded her.

_Cheeky, long-legged frog!_ she thought, not caring if he heard her.

If he did hear, he didn't say anything; he just waited patiently, not bothering to hide his smiling.

"Is it within ten feet of me?" she asked carefully.

"Yes." _Ah, nice strategy_, he thought. _She's deducing this by figuring out its proximity to her_.

"Within five feet?"

Roshaun thought about it. Five seemed about right. "Yes."

"Within two feet?"

"No."

Okay, so it wasn't the bed or the pillows or her clothes. Things between two and five feet away from her. Correction: soft things between two and five feet away from her. Not the chair. Not Spot. Roshaun? She almost laughed. She looked around one last time. That had to be it. "The purple ottoman under your feet, Your Highness," she answered, her voice touched with mockery.

Roshaun frowned. "A lucky guess." He knew it was no such thing. "Have you ever played Rotansta?"

As it turned out Rotansta was a strategy war game similar to Chess. And while back home Dairine could run proverbial circles around her father, sister, and Kit when it came to Chess, Roshaun had been playing Rotansta since he was three. He knew the rules, the tricks that would work best, and the loopholes often forgotten by his opponents. Still, Dairine didn't do as badly as she might have. As they sat on the bed across from one another, Dairine eyed the three-level game board.

Roshaun gave the appearance of lounging but he wasn't. He leaned back on his elbows, one leg bent at a 90-degree angle, the other draped off the edge of the bed. His booted foot just barely reached the floor. He studied the board, looking for Dairine's most probably move and what he could possibly do to counter it.

Dairine moved the _tinesf_ three squares to the left.

Roshaun's face didn't change. That clearly wasn't the smartest move she could have made. Was she doing this on purpose? He was used to playing against men who knew the advantages of each move and made the wisest. How was he supposed to counter something so stupid? Or was it stupid? Maybe Dhairine had a strategy that he just couldn't see. He moved his _styla_ and took her _winlot _off of the board. It was her move.

Dairine kept her poker face on. Poker! Now there's a game she could play. She wasn't doing bad, but she knew she wasn't up to par to Roshaun's playing level. What to do?

Roshaun made a conscious effort not to listen to Dairine's thoughts; that would be cheating.

There was a knock at the door and it startled them both enough to knock the board over.

"Come in!" grumbled Dairine, starting to pick up the pieces.

Meera entered with a large goblet of tea.

Dairine eyed the glass warily. "That's a lot bigger than before. Don't you ever sleep?"

"Yes it is, and no not enough." She surveyed the scene before her, but made no comment on it. "I thought perhaps if you were planning on keeping company around for a while, he might remind you to take your medicine rather than having me barge in on you again. There are three doses in that goblet. Drink up."

Dairine took the glass, hoping that it wouldn't taste the way it had earlier. Roshaun was on top of things; it tasted like grape. Dairine guessed that she'd drunk a third of the goblet and put it down.

Meera seemed satisfied. She spared Roshaun a glance. "And I hope you make sure she doesn't skip the other two doses. Want to make sure she gets well, right?"

"Of course," Roshaun said.

Meera exited.

Dairine noticed that Meera seemed to be less skittish around Roshaun than the serving maids had been this morning and she wasn't much older than them. She supposed that being a doctor or doctor-in-training gave her a few special rights; like the ability to torment the young King a little without severe punishment. After all, the King making his doctor angry here could kill him. Literally.

She wondered about that. Probably not. It was mostly citizens, probably poorer citizens, behind the assassinations attempts. Then again, it never hurt to watch your back.

"What are you thinking about?" Roshaun asked, tilting his head to one side.

"Meera. Have you known her long?"

"About a third of my life so far. She's been training with Neva that whole time."

Dairine tried to calculate how long that was. "That seems like a long time."

"It is, and Neva still treats her as a novice more often than not. I think it's because she shows the most promise," he said thoughtfully.

"That would be more reason to go harder on her?"

"Yes. To insure that she doesn't get too cocky." He gave her a pointed look. "Those with natural talent need to be kept more closely in check."

"To keep their egos in order, right?" She gave him that same look right back. They were both good and they both knew it. They also both thought the other had an over inflated ego and an attitude problem; they were both right.

"Exactly."

They sat a moment in silence.

He looked ruefully at their game. "I don't suppose you want to play again?"

"Rontansta? No. I've got a better game."

"And what's that?"

"Poker." She grinned a grin that would scare off a wolf. She'd been playing poker and winning since she was ten.


	7. Games

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

_**Author's Note:**_ Long awaited chapter 7.Somewhat short-ish, butbetter than nothing.It was giving me difficulties, but I seemed to have healed it and thrown in a little treat at the end. Thanks for your support, as always.

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Chapter 7: Games

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Dairine dealt out a hand of Texas Hold'em. The cards weren't exactly pretty, but she'd done the best with her limited ability and the ink, paper, and scissors Roshaun had provided.

Roshaun, if nothing else, had a very good poker face.

He sneezed suddenly and sent his cards flying across the bed.

"Are you all right?" she asked, glancing up at him over the top of her own hand. She was currently sporting four queens and a three and sincerely hoped he'd gather his cards back up again. Her hand would be tough to beat.

"Just peachy." He grimaced.

Dairine pointedly looked at the ceiling so Roshaun could gather up his cards. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yes."

Dairine laid down her hand and asked, "What've you got?"

Roshaun put his cards down. "A pair of Kings and a pair of tens."

"I win." She shuffled the cards back into the deck.

"I fail to see the entertainment in this." He leaned back to rest on one elbow.

Dairine dropped the cards on the bed and let out an irate breath. "It's more fun when you're actually betting something; playing for fun isn't fun." She started glumly at the homemade deck.

"You're right about that."

"Well, what do you do all day? There's got to be something better than this?"

He waved his hand vaguely. "Meetings. Work."

"There's got to be something else to do."

Roshaun looked at the ceiling, calculating in his head. "Now I do believe it is time for another dose of tea."

Dairine rolled her eyes. "I feel better. Honestly. Much better since this afternoon."

"May I remind you that you haven't eaten since then and it's nearly time for dinner?" he reminded her.

She groaned. She didn't want to eat. It wasn't that she wasn't hungry, but she'd rather not vomit in front of Roshaun…again.

"Oh, come now, that's the pattern of this illness. You're ill, you're better, you're ill again, you're almost well again, and then you're sicker than before. After that, you make a full recovery. I suspect you'll be glassy-eyed and all runny-nosed by the middle of the night."

She glared at him. "Don't make me sneeze on you," she threatened.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he replied.

A servant knocked on the door.

"Come in," Dairine said.

"Your Majesty, your parents request you and the young lady to come down for dinner."

Dairine studied him. The man was on the elderly side compared to anyone else she had seen on Wellakh. Certainly older than Nelaid.

"Now? It hasn't gotten that late, has it?" He knew dinner would be soon, but he hadn't expected it immediately.

"No, sir, not for another hour."

"Thank you, Tefsul." He motioned for him to be gone.

"Lady Miril had a message for the young lady, if you please." The old retainer paused.

"Go on then," she said irritably.

"As there are no guests this evening and you are recovering your health, Lady Miril bids you not to wear anything you deem uncomfortable."

Dairine grinned. Star Wars it was then. "Thank you…Tedsol?"

"Tefsul, Miss."

"Thank you, Tefsul," she corrected.

When the old retainer had gone Roshaun said, "Judging from that smirk, I assume it means you're going to dinner wearing _that _ensemble?"

Dairine had to choose between grinning cheekily and looking offended. She settled for somewhere in between. "And what's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Nothing, I suppose. I just hoped you'd wear that green dress. Or possibly the dress you wore last night."

"Uh-uh." Dairine might be fairly oblivious in regards to most things to do with boys but that was flirting if ever she heard it. She found it odd for him to be so brazen about it; he was normally the sort to hide any emotions. She wondered if she should press her luck. She decided to try. "And why would that be?"

He appeared casual. "It's just that you made me sit through that first Star Wars movie. Having to look at Luke Skywalker or Darth Vader all through dinner would make me sick." He smiled inwardly; he had neatly sidestepped saying anything about the dresses themselves. Aside from that, he really hadn't enjoyed the film.

Dairine decided to pull the topic away from clothing. It wasn't a subject she cared enough about to discuss at length. Clothes were more a matter of convenience than anything else. "I've got to get out of this room. I've been in here for almost two days straight."

"I suppose we could go for a walk outside."

Outside? She didn't need to be asked twice. She couldn't wait to get out of this windowless prison. "Spot? Where are my shoes?"

"Under the bed. I wondered when you'd remember me."

"You're never far from my mind," she consoled the machine as she leaned over the side of the bed, looking for her shoes. She didn't see them. "Any messages come through?"

"No."

"I'd like to type one." She hated going to her older sister for any sort of help. "Can't find my shoes anywhere," she muttered.

Spot scuttled over. He caught the direct use of the word type; this wasn't a message she wanted to send aloud.

Roshaun leaned over the opposite side of the bed and found the shoes.

Dairine typed quickly.

_Neets, what does it mean if you're overhearing someone's thoughts? On a semi-regular basis?_

She hit send before she could change her mind about asking. She knew she could find the answer in the manual, but she didn't want a manual answer. She wanted real-life input.  
"Manual answer for what?" Roshaun asked, handing her shoes to her.

"Nothing," she lied, deciding it wasn't worthing come up with a better lie.

If she didn't want to share, he wouldn't force her. Not at the moment anyway.

Dairine slide her feet into her eat up sneakers without bothering to untie the grungy laces. Come to think of it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd untied them or tied them.

"Ready?"

"Can't wait to get out of here."

Roshaun looked at her as they passed through the doorway. "Are you that desperate to leave Wellakh that you can't wait to leave?"

"I didn't say I wanted to leave Wellakh. I didn't think it either. I said I wanted to leave that room."

"In all fairness, I was in there just as long as you were."

"No, you got out of there this morning. You got to stretch you legs and see people."

"For all the interest that outing was worth," he said, thinking of the meeting. What a headache that ordeal had been.

"Either way, I want to stretch my legs and get some fresh air ASAP."

He gave her an almost-smirk, and offered his arm, "Your wish is my command, milady."

Trying to keep from laughing, she replied, "Thank you, sir."

* * *

Nita was doing her homework at the kitchen table. Putting her math away to take out her Physics book, the dreaded Physics book, her hand brushed the cover of her Wizard's manual. She had message waiting. She opened it.

She smiled. It sounded as though Roshaun and Dairine were hearing each other's thoughts. She remembered the days, early in their wizardry, when it seemed she and Kit heard each other almost constantly. Wizardry partners usually did when they first started working together; it often saved both their lives when they didn't know each other well enough yet to read reactions instantly. After a while, partners who were growing even closer stopped hearing each other. It had something or other to do with personal boundaries and the need to set them and overcome them. She sighed. Now if she and Kit wanted to communicate mind-to-mind it took a lot more effort.

She reached her mind out to Kit, just seeing if he was there.

He felt her presence almost immediately. _Neets?_

_Hey, Kit. What's up?_ she asked.

_Just finished my homework. You need something?_

_No. Just wanted to say hi_. She was about to break the connection when he asked a question.

_Do you want to come over for dinner? It's spaghetti; my mom can't ruin it too badly._

Nita looked around her kitchen. _I don't want to leave Dad alone tonight with Dari still on Wellakh. Gave him a good scare when she just vanished like that without a word. Besides, it's my night to cook. You could come here._ Physics could wait. It wasn't like she was particularly interested in doing the work anyway. It was difficult. Chemistry had been easier; balancing equations was similar to balancing the two sides of a spell.

_Sure. I'll even help you with that physics homework you're trying not to think about. See you in 20. _Kit grinned and Nita could sense it.

As the connection faded, she heard Mela in the background, talking to the TV or one of her TV friends, as usual. She smiled and got up to see what was around for dinner. There had to be something.


	8. Two Dinners

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_** This was fun. I'm not lying; I had a great time writing this chapter. Warning, I'm going out of town 'til Sunday, visiting one of my top 2 choice colleges. I really enjoyed writing this, it's twice as long as the last one, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. I brought Kit and Nita back again. I don't want them too involved in this story, simply because, this isn't their story. I am however plotting a one-shot about them.

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Chapter 8: Two Dinners

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Dairine and Roshaun walked, arms linked. The flowers were brilliant shades of russet, and deep purple, and a midnight blue. The plants themselves look similar in kind to low-maintenance succulents she'd recalled seeing. If memory served her—which it always did—they required very little water. If Wellakh was suffering a drought, low water usage plants were certainly worthwhile.

The garden wasn't covered in moss, or grass, but pebbles and flagstones. Trees sparsely lined the pathway to provide some shade in warm weather. As it was nearing evening, the air was cooling by Wellakh standards, though still much warmer than New York probably was at the moment. The heat wasn't a muggy east coast heat either; it was dry, as was to be expected.

Every so often, there was a statue or fountain in the garden—not that many of the fountains had any water coming from them. Archways and bridges (over little streams) appeared here and there as well as the occasional stone bench.

Dairine admired it all with mild critical interest. More than anything she was thrilled to be out of that room at last. She was almost surprised when she realized that there were birds in some of the trees. With most of the fountains dry, she assumed there wouldn't be much wildlife within the walls.

Roshaun picked up on the thought. "Birds are nearly impossible to keep out, even if we tried. They're everywhere on Wellakh. That's why we keep a few of the fountains and streams with water."

They continued in silence for a while.

Roshaun tried not to make it obvious that he was glancing at her.

"What is it?" she asked at last in exasperation.

"You're irritated. Does…does it bother you that we seem to hear each other think, possibly more often than we should? I was just wondering about it is all."

"I'm sure it's normal for wizards working together to hear each other."

"I don't recall really hearing much from Sker'ret or Filif," he pointed out, tapping his temple.

Dairine shrugged nonchalantly. "Our species are closer."

"You said working together. Are we?"

She was startled. "I was under that impression."

"You'll probably be returning home tomorrow," his voice was very close to being emotionless.

She shrugged again. "There's still the problem here to solve. I'm not sure how long this drought will take to fix, or resolve itself, but you can't do it all by yourself. You know that, right?"

He said nothing.

Though he said nothing and was clearly attempting not to think anything, Dairine caught an undercurrent of emotion coming from him. A little anger, a little hopelessness.

She saw a bench just ahead and pulled him to it. "Look, Roshaun, you've looked at this problem over and over again, haven't you?"

"Of course I have," he said testily.

"And so have your father and your weather wizards?"

"As if we'd do less than that?"

"So, clearly that hasn't _worked_. The intervention is obviously missing something if you keep adding 2 and 1 and you get 4. You need someone with a fresh perspective. Frankly, you need me." She said this with the utmost confidence because she believed it.

"And why do you think you're so pivotal?"

"Because unlike your father and his wizards, I'm seeing these problem with fresh—not frustrated—eyes, and I've got a completely different set of data in my brain than you do. Right now your chief weather wizards are trying to put square pegs in a round hole."

Roshaun gracefully decided not to prses the argument any further. Dhairine might just be right for once. Still, he couldn't help adding one last comment on the matter. "Just remember, Dhairine, even you, young as you are," he teased, "aren't powerful enough to wrestle Wellakj's sun on your own."

Those were fighting words for Dairine, tease or not. She took the loss of the height of her power very personally. "Maybe not alone, but what about with my friends' power?" She mentally sent him an image of the mobiles.

Before Roshaun was able to answer, they heard footsteps and an attendent appeared, informing them that dinner was about to start.

As they followed the man inside, Roshaun said, _So you really are wearing that hideous thing to dinner?_

Dairine glanced at him, grinning. _Nobody'll stop me._

Roshaun almost replied contradictorily and stopped himself just in time.

In mental and verbal silence, they continued onward, her arm linked through his.

* * *

While Mr. Callahan insisted on washing the dishes, Kit endeavored to explain Nita's physics homework to her. The theory wasn't what was giving her trouble, and she could handle the math, the problem was putting the two into a word problem and not messing up the units. Or for that matter, figuring out what the problem asked to begin with. It was not going well. 

"Look, I don't see what's so difficult. If I knew what the problem was, I could help."

"Kit, when you look at the problem and write it out with just the numbers, I know what to do. My problem is getting there in there on my own."

By the time Mr. Callahan had finished the dishes, Nita and Kit were making slow but sure progress.

Around half-past eight, just as they were finishing her homework, Nita looked at the clock and felt a little guilty. "It didn't realize what time it was. Is your homework done?"

"Finished it before dinner," he said cheekily.

She swatted him on the arm.

"I didn't have that much tonight. Some nights I'm doing homework much later than now."

"I'm usually still doing work most of the time."

"Not to mention everything we have to catch up on. Wish we got a few extra days off, like Dairine is getting," Kit said wistfully.

Nita was tempted to agree, but decided to defend her sister. "In all fairness, she was really worked up about Roshaun. Not to mention she sick now."

"Heck, I'd take a stomach bug over school any day. Well, most days anyway."

"We've got enough work to make up as it is."

He scratched his arm. "Have you heard from her lately?"

"Just before you came over."

"What'd she want?"

Nita shrugged. "She thought it was weird that she and Roshaun were hearing each other think."

Kit arched an eyebrow. "Stuff doesn't usually weird her out. Besides, it happens when people first start working together."

She shrugged again, without knowing why. "She just wanted some sisterly reassurance. I think Roshaun scares her a little. The two of them are a good match for intelligence and stubbornness. And almost a match in arrogance."

He snorted. "You've got that right."

There was a moment of comfortable silence. The kind of silence that can exist between close people and isn't awkward…most of the time.

"So what did you tell her?"

Nita looked around for her manual. "I never replied."

Kit laughed. "You're scattered brained today. You sure you're getting enough sleep?"

"Never, but that hasn't bothered me before." She found her manual and opened it to the page she wanted. She paused, on the verge of saying something, and looked at Kit. "I don't know what to say."

"How about: 'Hey, runt, hope you're enjoying your trip. We rented your room out, so have fun on Wellakh 'til the new girl's lease runs out next year'?"

"I wish. Come on, I need something useful. She could have looked this up and didn't. She asked me about it. For once I want to give decent big sister advice."

Kit yawned. "You're talking to the wrong person. I'm the annoying but charming youngest child, not the big sister."

"_El nino,_" she teased.

He glared at her. "May I remind you that I'm taller than you and that the last time you called me that I decked you?"

She grinned. "If it came to a fight I could still sit on you and squash you flat. And I've got at least as much practice at running from bullies as you do. Probably more."

"I won't hit you tonight. Clearly you're too worried about your sister to know what you're saying."

Nita stared at her book again. "_Dairine, it's normal. I don't know what else to tell you. If you're worried about getting too close to this person, then it's not hearing them you should be worried about_. Send. How'd I do?"

"Not bad. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like doing any homework ever again. I'll save all my makeup work 'til the last minute."

"That doesn't sound bad. Want to watch TV?"

"Only if that offer is for here. I've given up fighting Mela on using the one in our living room. That thing just gets stranger and stranger."

"Fine by me." They headed into the living room, and slouched onto the couch for some mind-numbing entertainment that wouldn't force them to think too much. There had to be something on TV for the people who didn't have two brain cells to rub together.

* * *

Dinner wasn't held in the large hall where it had been the night before. Instead, it was in more of an alcove room off to the side. The table was smaller, with room for only a half dozen or so. Dairine was glad that it was just the four of them. She didn't feel like dealing with inquisitive government officials or dancing tonight. She just wanted to eat. Well, she wouldn't mind skipping the eating and going back outside. The thought of losing her dinner down here was mortifying. 

"Good evening, Dhairine," Nelaid said.

"Good evening, sir," she replied. Good evening? Who said 'good evening' anymore?

Miril smiled, feeling no formal greeting was necessary. "How are you feeling, _tekeh_? Sit down."

"I'm fine, M—"

She looked at her son. "I wasn't speaking to you." She looked back at Dairine, who was sitting, and patted her hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Better since I walked outside. It was good stretch my legs."

"I'm glad to hear that. All the food this evening should be gentle on your stomach."

"Thank you." _Roshaun, your mother has to be one of the nicest ladies I've met in a long time._

_Easy for you to say. She didn't even say hello to me._ Outwardly, his face was composed.

Dairine couldn't help snickering. She looked away from Roshaun. She bit her lip. That time the mind-touch was intentional, but what about most of the other times? She hoped Nita responded soon. How did her sister and Kit deal with over-active mind-touch?

Dinner was pleasant overall. The food was delicious and the conversation was polite. The servers who brought the food were all very attentive.

Dairine observed parts of both parents in Roshaun. He had a self-importance and fear of letting his emotions show too much from his father, and she could see that what kindness he had was certainly from his mother. She remembered his changing the taste of her horrible tea and almost smiled. And best of all, so far dinner was staying down nicely.

"Thank you for visiting with me and having lunch with me earlier," Dairine said.

"Oh, I quite enjoyed it."

"You've all been really kind to me." She meant it. Well, she hadn't seen much of Nelaid, though he did stop everyone when the questions became too much at the big dinner. Miril had showed her nothing but kindness. And Roshaun had been unusually attentive for the past two days. She was definitely going to miss Wellakh, but she knew she couldn't stay.

"We were thinking of looking at the stars from the rooftop this evening, if you feel up to it?" asked Nelaid.

Astronomy had always been Nita's thing, but it could definitely prove interesting. "Sure." She was highly tempted to bring up the drought and question Nelaid on what solutions they had tried, but she thought better of it. She knew when to keep her mouth shut. She could save her theory on the subject for later.

"What theory?" asked Roshaun.

Dairine could have smacked herself on the forehead. She wished she could learn to think more quietly.

_You aren't a quiet person_, he reminded her. _Hasn't anyone else ever told you that you think loudly?_

_Only you. Maybe your mind-hearing is just too sensitive._ She just barely restrained herself from making a face at him.

_No one else has ever accused me of that,_ he replied.

_Well no one ever told me that I think loudly!_

"What theory?" repeated Nelaid.

She might as well tell. So much for not mixing politics and dinner. "It's a thought I was having about the drought here. Your weather wizards have been checking the sun, and so have you. And Roshaun probably hasn't yet, unless it was before his Excursus. The sun is acting fairly normal, isn't it?"

"Yes. We can't find any major cause for concern with it." He furrowed his brow.

"So, what if it's not the sun directly? What if there's something wrong with the core of the planet? Or the atmosphere? Though, now that I think about it, if it were the atmosphere it's more likely that you might have already detected it. Not so with something below ground; something you weren't looking for," Dairine said.

Nelaid arched an eyebrow and looked at his son. "She has a point."

"I never said she was stupid."

"Hello? I'm still sitting here," Dairine pointed out. "You can both talk directly to me. I'm not a doll to sit here with a painted on smile."

"Well-said," Miril said, squeezing her hand.

After dessert, Roshaun led Dairine back to her room, sending someone to fetch Meera. It was time for another dose of tea. Miril and Nelaid promised to find them both before they went stargazing.

Dairine dragged her heels all the way back to her windowless prison.

* * *

"Hey, Neets?" 

"You don't think they'll put us on active status again really soon, do you?" Kit asked. The question had been troubling him since the ordeal on the moon.

She sighed from where she was leaning against his shoulder. "I hope not. I haven't had the energy to check. I'm not sure if I want to know." The topic had been on her mind too. "Do you remember what we talked about…after the Song of Twelve?"

"The reward for hard jobs is that we keep getting harder ones," he smiled wryly. "I remember. I also remember _both_ of us saying that we like the harder jobs."

"I do. It's just…sometimes I wish we could go back to just saving our city for a while or even our planet and not _everything._ That's a lot."

He sighed. "I know. Maybe, without Ponch…maybe without Mr. Dog-Choice we won't be as tied up in the _everything_ anymore. How much more can They want from us?"

"Kit, They want as much as we've got, and more. They are going to keep wanting until we've got nothing else to give. And then…"

"And then it's Timeheart," he said firmly.

The phone rang once and Nita's father answered it. "Oh, yes, he's still here. I'll send him home. Good night, to you too." There was the sound of the phone being returned to its cradle. "Kit? Nita?"

"We're in the living room, Daddy," called Nita.

Her father came and stood in the doorway. "Kit, that was your mother. She was worried about you. She wanted to make sure aliens or anything hadn't kidnapped you on your way over here. She wants you home."

"Alright. Thanks for letting me come for dinner, Mr. Callahan."

"You're welcome anytime, Kit." He left, going back to the kitchen to sort out his shop accounts.

Nita sat up. "Come on, I'll walk you to the door." She followed him to the front door. "Are you sure you aren't going to just use that Beam-Me-Up spell to get home?"

"It's only a few blocks, and I won't get hit by a car. Don't worry about me." After a second, he hugged her.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow. I'll stop by on the way to school."

She watched him disappear into the night, with no Ponch to keep him company on the walk home. She knew he was still torn up about whether or not to get a new dog. He'd had Ponch forever, but he couldn't fathom living without a dog for too long. Still, it wouldn't—couldn't—be the same. Nita went back inside. Maybe she'd try and tackle at least some of her makeup work. The Powers knew it would only get worse the longer she waited.


	9. Round I

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note:_** Another update. No Nita/Kit this time, all Dairine/Roshaun. This chapter seems a little funky to me, but I can live with it and hope you can too. Enjoy. The story is half over or more already. I may do other Young Wizards stories after this though.

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**Chapter 9: Round 1

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Dairine glared at Roshaun. "I feel fine. I don't need more of that tea."

He had to try very hard to keep from rolling his eyes at her. It took almost all his self-control. He was not the sort of person who should be rolling his eyes anytime a comment he didn't like was made. "I make sure the tea tastes fine when you drink it, I don't see why you're objecting to it."

She didn't really have a good reason. On principle she usually refused medication because it meant she was admitting that she was sick in the first place.

While she pondered the matter, Roshaun pinched her nose and made her drink the next dose of tea that Meera had brought up; she had to open her mouth to breathe.

She glared at him again shaking him off of her. Brat.

"Heard that."

"You always do," she said sweetly. "No one else has ever complained about me thinking loudly. Haven't heard a single other wizard even mention it."

"You mostly work alone, don't you?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with anything?" she asked defiantly.

Roshaun just shook his head. He knew she knew the connection. She was smart. Ones of the smartest people—aside from himself—he'd met. Wizards working closely together were more likely to develop their—condition, if it could be called that.

Dairine didn't notice that the bed had been remade with fresh sheets and the room generally straightened up while they were gone. "Anything, Spot?"

"1 new message."

Spot scuttled over to Dairine so she could check her message. She looked at the message and got a little angrier. "A fat lot of good you are," she muttered.

"Who?"

"You," she said sarcastically.

"Don't get mad at me, I haven't done anything. Who sent the message you're annoyed about?"

"My sister."

He sat on the bed, trying to see the message out of the corner of his eye.

Dairine turned the screen away from him.

"Bad news?" he asked. He could always get her to think about the message. That seemed to work a little too well lately.

"Not bad news. Just nothing helpful," she said, a touch of bitterness in her voice. Why had she even _bothered_ asking her sister for advice? She could put up with this brain intrusion for as long as it lasted…particularly if it stopping meant they were getting too close. Hadn't they discussed that already? They were too young. They didn't even like each other. Right? Right. She wasn't too sure. "You're suspiciously quiet. Say something."

Roshaun assumed that he understood the gist of what the message had been. She'd asked her sister about their mind-touching. Apparently whatever Nita had said upset her. He bit his lip. He'd researched the topic in his own version of the Wizard's manual. He knew what it meant. He had no one to ask on the matter himself. As best he knew of Dairine's personality, that she had even asked her sister's advice was not a good sign. Well, he had to say _something_ now. "Are you leaving in the morning?" Why in the Aethyrs names had he said _that_?

Why the Powers had he asked that? "It was the plan initially, but I'm not set on it," she said, after a pause. Did Roshaun just sigh? "_If_ you're right, I should be fully recovered by tomorrow. I think time back home is running so that it's Thursday now. I left home on Tuesday. Even going home tomorrow I'd miss school. Which gives me another couple of days until it starts again. That's enough time to at least make a start on the problem here." She shrugged. "I can't leave 'til we at least start on this." She casually tapped a few of Spot's keys, bringing up the listing of "Rodriguez." She smiled. It said "On Sabbatical: Emergencies only." She looked at Callahan and Callahan. "Active Status: Assignment Pending, and On Sabbatical: Emergencies only." She was right; she was supposed to be here.

If it was possible, Roshaun sat up straighter than he already was. "As King of Wellakh I am your guardian here and it is both rude and of bad taste to send you home later than we said we would."

Dairine snorted.

The young king looked a little deflated and diminished to his usual arrogant look.

"Your parents are my guardians while I'm here, I'll buy that, but not you. You're…" What was he anyway? Never mind. Did she really want to dwell on that subject? "I could leave anytime I want, so you aren't 'sending' me anywhere to begin with. Writing home to explain that I'm staying longer would only take a minute, and if anyone objects _I don't care_." She crossed her arms, thinking smugly, _What do you have to say to _thatThe question was rhetorical, not meant for his mind-hearing.

He quirked an eyebrow at her unfinished statement and frowned when she said she didn't care.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be like that."

"Like what?"

"Don't act all hurt and confused. In most cases I don't care what people think about me or what I do or don't do." She'd always been independent. She learned early on, watching her sister, that if you paid too much attention to what other people thought you would get hurt. She didn't want to get hurt. It was like knowing things. Knowing things was a way to not get hurt. It was a defense mechanism that had worked tolerably well her whole life and one she wasn't about to change now.

He sensed her putting up subconscious walls, blocking him out. Maybe they weren't subconscious walls. Maybe she was doing it on purpose just now. "Dhairine, why don't you care?"

"Because most people don't matter enough to care about. Not when it comes to their opinions about me anyway," she amended. If she didn't care about people's lives in general, she could never have become a wizard in the first place. Somebody has to take care of _everything_ to make sure it survives, and wizardry will not live in the unwilling heart.

"What about the people that do matter?"

Dairine made no reply. They were far off topic from her not caring about him objecting to her leaving.

There was a knock at the door.

Roshaun's parents were waiting to walk with them to the roof.

"We'll be along in a minute," Roshaun said, distractedly. He was looking at Dairine.

She was intentionally looking away. "No, we'll come with you now."

"Please, go on ahead. We'll catch up," Roshaun insisted.

Dairine glared at him. "You can catch up, Roshaun. I'm going stargazing with you parents." She stood up to leave the room.

Miril and Nelaid looked at one another. "I think we should give them a few minutes," Nelaid said quietly.

Miril looked at Dairine and Roshaun. The two were glaring daggers at one another. There was hurt, pride, and a little longing in their faces. "We'll meet you—both of you—on the rooftop when you're ready." She and her husband departed, closing the door soundlessly.

Roshaun moved to the door and talked quietly to the lock. Dairine didn't pay attention. She was trying to think of what to say. Well, her mouth usually got her into trouble more often than out of it. Maybe she should say nothing and leave, that sounded safest. Roshaun moved away from the door and into his chair. Smart boy. People who got in her way often felt the results of her temper. She tried the door and it wouldn't open. She shot him a look.

He looked back steadily, openly.

"What'd you do to the door?"

"Nothing to the door," he said, offhandedly.

She sighed. "Then what did you do to the lock on the door, or the door handle, or whatever?"

"I think we need to talk."

"Well, I don't. I want to go look at the stars."

He shrugged, and started cleaning his nails. He talked the lock into locking itself. He was very persuasive. It would take a lot of work for her to undo what he'd done.

Dairine said in the speech, "_Open up, you blasted thing!_"

It did no good. The handle wouldn't turn.

Roshaun smiled inwardly. He'd use a few charming words to get the lock to obey him; he knew Dairine would try the brute force approach. Subtlety wasn't her style in the least. It was a weakness in her to be sure.

After almost ten frustrated minutes, she gave up and sat on the bed, staring moodily at the floor. "Alright. What do you want?"

"Why does our connection scare you?"

"Why doesn't it scare you?" she retorted.

Both questions were fair. Both questions went unanswered.

Roshaun's hand reached out and touched the stone at this throat. "Does it bother you that I'm strong?" Dhairine could feel threatened by someone whose strength was superior to her own. It was very likely that she was, as a matter of fact.

She snorted. Even if she wasn't younger—which she was, she still had the mobiles if she needed them. It wasn't the same as controlling the sun exactly, but it wasn't bad. "No, it bothers me that you're stuck up about it." She shot him a look. "Does it annoy you to no end that someone younger than can solve problems that you sometime can't?"

He bit his lip; he would not raise his voice. "The Aethyrs give us assignments because we are the only answers to particular problems. Why should I take offense at what They deem is correct?"

"Would it kill you to know, that since I arrived, They put me on active status? I'm here to solve a problem. Since I don't live here, it must be one of your problems." She glared at the floor.

"We manage our problems here fine," he said icily.

"Why do you get so insulted when people offer to help?"

"Why do you stick your nose in everyone else's business but your own?" he shot back.

"Why don't you just admit that you need help sometimes?" she almost screamed.

"Why don't you just admit that you need help sometimes too?" His temper was rising and with it, his voice.

For twenty minutes, they sat still. They glared openly at one another, stole looks when they didn't think the other was watching, and mostly just looked annoyed. And worried. There was definitely some worrying going on.

"Why are you afraid of me?" he asked, softly.

"A million whys between us today, and no answers it seems," she said wryly.

"There could be answers."

The look on her face said she clearly didn't intend to give any.

Oddly enough, through the time they'd been locked in the room, they hadn't heard each other think once.

Roshaun sat back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. "You think don't I wish to be here any longer, that I don't wish to be king."

That thought hadn't crossed her mind in recent hours, but it had been floating around her head for the past two days. He hadn't wanted all those people to be his responsibility. What if they couldn't fix the drought? What if it was one of those natural things that was supposed to happen, and all they could do was cushion the blow? But this had to go deeper than that. It was the question she actually asked that he avoided answering for two days. She wondered if she ought to say something and ruled against it. He was volunteering some insight and she wasn't going to stop him or say anything that would turn the attention towards her.

"You may be right. I thought…perhaps, if I left or if I abdicated the throne with no one to replace me, I would be taking the coward's way out, cheating, abandoning Wellakh to chaos. But you don't think so, do you?" He looked at her, locking eyes. There was no bias in his eyes or voice. He wanted the honest answer and suspected he already knew what she would say.

Dairine couldn't look away. Why did he think she would have the answers when he didn't? He always acted as though he did have the answers, so why was he asking now? A thought struck her like a hammer blow to the head. _Because _you _always act like you have the answers. Because you work so hard to make other people believe you do know everything…and you're the outsider here. Somebody with a new outlook. He's expecting you to look at the same evidence he's seen and find something else. He isn't looking for a desperate escape; he honestly thinks you see it_, the annoying little voice at the base of her skull told her. And she did see it. "No, I don't."

He waited for her to continue.

Dairine sighed. "I don't know how much you know about foreign politics, but back home, on my part of the planet, we don't have kings. We've got our circles of politicians we elect every so often. A hundred Senators, a mayor for every city, a governor for each state, and one president for the country. Other countries mostly have prime ministers and some similar set-ups. There _are_ ways to run a country without a king. You spread out the power and the work. It's not perfect, but it works most of the time. Maybe something like that is just what Wellakh needs."

"Do you think it would work?"

"No way to know unless you present it, and even then you won't know until you try."

He stared solemnly. This information would take time to digest properly.

Well, one barrier between them was gone. They'd finally at least broached the subject he'd been avoiding before. She wondered at his motive for bringing the topic up. Did he think that bringing up what he had refused to talk about initially might bring her around to saying why the message from Nita was such a problem? If that was the case, he was barking up the wrong tree.

Roshaun tucked his hair behind his ear.

Dairine blinked. She couldn't recall him ever doing that. Grooming himself in front of someone just seemed very…unlike him.

No matter, she wasn't going to say anything on the subject.

"Do you still want to go look at the stars?" he asked.

She nodded, not quite trusting her voice. She didn't want to blurt out anything stupid.

He stood up, spoke a few soothing words to the lock, and held the door open for her. Wordlessly, he led the way to the rooftop where his parents were waiting.

Lady Miril squeezed Dairine's hand as Dairine came and stood by her. There were chairs on the roof, reasonably comfortable ones at that, and Dairine chose to sit right next to Roshaun's mother.

She smiled, but asked no questions. Dairine was grateful.

Nelaid and Lady Miril pointed out the unfamiliar stars and constellations and a few planets. These stars were much closer to Wellakh, than the stars seen on an Earth night were to Earth.

They sat out for a couple of hours. Dairine almost could have fallen asleep except…except that she knew Roshaun was sitting two chairs away and that he was upset. Well, she didn't blame him. She was upset too. But it seemed they were at a stalemate.

After a while, the four of them left the roof to go back to their rooms.

With Dairine still not exactly familiar with the palace, Roshaun offered to lead her back. She let him.

He waited outside the door when she went in; not at all his usual self.

She wanted to break the tension. Why had things degenerated to this state so quickly? Why couldn't they just banter the way they usually did? "Aren't you coming in?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "I thought you might prefer it if I didn't."

She made an effort to grin and managed admirably. "If you don't come in, who's going make that awful tea taste better when Meera insists I drink more of it?"

Smiling a little, he followed her.

They put their heads together, discussing the drought until Meera came in, bearing the large pot of tea.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Dairine asked.

"We've been through that question already. Drink your tea."

Dairine did as she was instructed and almost smiled. It tasted like grape. He couldn't be too angry then.

"The extra doses here I'm sure you'll see that she gets," Meera said, looking at Roshaun.

"Of course," he replied.

Meera looked closely at him, as though inspecting him. Which she was. "You'll be ill by morning," she declared."

"Unlikely."

"Very likely." She left.

Dairine pulled the paper towards her again. "Now from what you've told me, the drought has been going on for…"

It was a couple of hours later that they still hadn't made any progress and Roshaun thought it was time for Dairine to go to sleep.

She yawned. "I'm not tired. My eyes just hurt."

"When your eyes hurt, it means you should shut them."

Dairine looked around for the nightgown she'd worn the night before and couldn't find it. She was sure she left it in a pile nearby.

"What are you looking for?"

"That nightdress I had last night. I don't see it."

"There was a maid in here while we were at dinner. She probably put it away in the dresser."

Dairine blinked. "How do you know there was a maid in here?"

"You didn't notice the fresh linens your bed had been made up with? Or that the bed had been made up at all?" he asked, a little exasperated.

"I guess I was a little busy distracted since you were try to jam that tea down my throat," she said.

His eyes sparkled. "I didn't try, I succeeded."

"Details, details." She went to the dresser. The nightgown was there, with the atrocious cap. Wait, it wasn't the same cap, or nightgown; the ribbons were lavender this time instead of pink. That was a tiny improvement. She looked over her shoulder at Roshaun. He clearly wasn't leaving soon.

She walked to the bathroom and locked the door behind her to change. She came out, not wearing the nightcap. She dumped her clothing next to the bed and continued towards Roshaun, shoving the mass quantities of his blonde hair into the cap and tying it around his chin.

She grinned cheekily at him and sat down on the bed, crawling under the covers..

He started to untie the cap.

"Leave it, I know you usually wear one, or your hair will get knotted," she said.

He dropped his fingers and looked at her in surprise. "Who told you…?"

"Your mother." She could have sworn Roshaun blushed.

His vanity subsided for the moment. "I know the caps look ridiculous but I am simply too busy in the morning to deal with any more knots in my hair than are absolutely necessary."

She yawned again, taking the pressure off of him for the moment.

"You need to go to sleep."

She sniffled. Her nose was starting to run again. He was right. By the middle of the night she'd be perfectly miserable. She sighed. Why did he have to be right?

He stood up—silly nightcap and all—and tucked the blankets in around her tightly.

She took her arms out from under the covers, which had been pinning them down a little too tightly. "I'm not going to run away, you know. You don't have to fasten me down like this."

Roshaun gave an almost smirk, untucked the blankets, and retucked her arms in just as tightly as before.

She rolled her eyes. "Goodnight."

He hesitated just he had the night before. She couldn't feel what he was thinking, but she could sense him, even with her eyes shut, hovering over her.

He kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight, Dhairine."

She smiled. "Goodnight, Roshaun." Forehead. That was an interesting choice; the same he'd made last night. Maybe she was reading too much into this but it seemed that a kiss on the cheek was a deliberate sign of friendship, a kiss on the mouth was just the opposite, so where did that leave the forehead?

He went back to his chair and sat down.

Dairine sat up, undoing all his hard work with the blankets.

"Dhairine!" he said, almost whining.

She laughed. There was a blanket folded up at the end of the bed and she tossed it to him. He needed something to keep him warm if he insisted on spending the night in that instead of in his room, where he belonged. Not that she minded that much.

He got up and wordlessly tucked her in again.

She rolled over as he sat back down, away from him, and grinned. She loved annoying him. She wondered if she should get up again, just for the sake of annoying him, and ruled against it. Right now, things were okay. She decided to forget the fact that it had been hours since she last heard him think.


	10. Round II

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**_Author's Note: _**Alright. I'm not dead! But I'm not in love with this chapter either, though I think it has its moments of brightness. I'm sorry I haven't updated in ages, but life has been hectic. The play went well, my birthday was great, and I have tons of homework to do. If you're waiting on an update for another story, I swear they're coming. I'm working on **_Can I Keep Him_ **and **_Why I'm Quitting the Canons_** right now.

If you forgive me for the long absence, review.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Round 2

* * *

**

Dairine woke to the sound of coughing. Her nose was stuffed up and her head felt as though it weighed a ton. She sat up groggily and looked at Roshaun who was coughing rather violently. She remembered Meera's prediction that he would get sick. It seemed to be coming true.

She figured it must be about time for tea. Well, if he could sleep through his own coughing, she wasn't going to wake him. She picked it up and pinched her nose, swallowing it. Disgusting. But changing the properties of medication of any sort, or letting them think themselves changed could affect the results. Roshaun must have been working his wizardry on her mind; it was much harder to deceive your own mind than someone else's.

Dairine studied Roshaun's face. He looked peaceful. It was remarkable how much better someone could look when they were asleep, than when they're awake. The haughty expression the King usually wore did nothing to make him particularly attractive; then again, neither did that bonnet he was wearing at the moment. She almost snickered. It was so strange to see Roshaun slumped in the chair, clothing wrinkled, wearing that stupid cap, and looking _peaceful_. His blanket had fallen to the floor.

Throwing the blankets off of her, she slid out of bed and padded softly towards him. She didn't want to wake him up. She picked the blanket up, and put it around his shoulders. It was better than nothing. He coughed again and rolled onto his other side. He almost looked as though he was going to open his eyes.

He didn't open them.

Dairine stood there for a moment. What was it about him? Why were things so difficult? She wouldn't say it. She wouldn't even think it.

She smiled a little. What did a kiss on the forehead mean? She shook her head. She was just being stupid. She needed to go back to sleep. Before she could talk herself out of it, she pecked him on the forehead and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers over her and closing her eyes.

Roshaun shifted again on the chair, his eyes open a little. He felt the weight of the blanket on him and saw Dhairine getting back into bed. He let his eyes close again.

* * *

Dairine tossed and turned in the night, drinking tea again when she felt she needed it. Her nose went from runny to stuffy and back to runny. She coughed and coughed.

At one point Roshaun woke up and sat with her, patting her on the back while she coughed. He didn't seem to be faring much better than she was.

* * *

By morning, Dairine was feeling a great deal better. Roshaun however, looked worse for the wear.

Dairine looked at Roshaun. He was still slumped in the chair, blanket dangling half off, and clothes wrinkled. She got up and covered him with the blanket again, deciding it was best to just let him sleep…until she could find Meera and make him taste that disgusting tea.

"Wha' are you doin' in m'room?" he asked drowsily.

"This isn't your room. This is mine." _For now anyway_, she thought. _Mine 'til I leave_.

"Oh. What'm I doing here?" He yawned.

"You fell asleep in here again. I'm sure breakfast will be in soon." She considered for a moment. "I feel better. Do you want the bed? I can sit in the chair."

"No, no, stay in the bed. Rest. Sleep. I'll sit here." He attempted to work himself into a seated position, rather than his curled slouch, but his head started to hurt at sitting up.

For a sick man he was amazingly stubborn when Dairine tried to get him to trade places with her. Seeing she could do nothing, she resigned herself to reading information about Wellakh on Spot.

When one of the servants came in with breakfast, Dairine was still reading and Roshaun was still asleep. Dairine put a finger to her lips, motioning the girl quiet and pointed to the table. Once she saw that the King was in fact asleep, the girl ignored him. In some situations it was best to know as little as possible.

Dairine ate her breakfast without feeling nauseous and was grateful. She was about half done when Roshaun woke up. "Good morning," she said cheerily. She took one of the smaller plates and set a few things on it for him.

Clutching his head with the dizziness of lying down too long, he sat up fully, taking his nightcap off.

She pushed the plate towards him.

Roshaun started eating slowly. He wasn't at the nauseous stage of the illness yet and probably wouldn't be until tomorrow.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Fine." _Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional_, she thought, without much humor. Given how confused she'd been over the last two days it was a reasonable assessment. She wondered if he picked up on that thought about being freaked out. He gave no indication that he had. "What about you?"

Roshaun gave her a look. He was sitting here, feeling miserable, and he knew that he probably looked about the same way he felt. "The same."

"Liar," Dairine said, a touch playful. Well, maybe not. After all the arguing last night he was possibly as F.I.N.E. as she was. "You're sick."

"If I'm sick, I became that way taking care of you."

She snorted. "If? You're sick."

"Nom I'm not." He promptly sneezed and the sneeze brought on a coughing fit.

"I told you you were sick."

"I'm not," he insisted.

As they finished their breakfast, Dairine said, "I'll take the chair, and you get in under the blankets. You look miserable."

"No. It wouldn't be right."

"What wouldn't be right about it? I'm healthy now and you're not." She rolled her eyes and stood up from her breakfast chair. "I'm going to wash up." She passed by her t-shirt and cargos. She considered putting them back on again but went to look in the dresser on a whim. In the drawer above where she found the nightgown the night before, she found the same sort of gauzy outfit that Lady Miril wore. Satisfied, she took the clothing and shut the door behind her.

After a quick bath, she came back into the room, happily tossing the nightgown in her growing clothes heap. It was like she was home. She looked at Roshaun, who had fallen asleep. She debated whether or not to stay with him or see more of the palace. She supposed she could do some of her homework. She _had_ promised.

"Spot?" she said softly.

There was a scuttling noise under the bed. Sighing, Dairine got on her knees and lifted the edge of the blanket. Spot was under the bed next to a pair of sandals that must have been put there for her at the same time as the clothing.

"Spot, come over here. I need my schoolbooks. Would you please open a hole to my backpack?"

Soon she was seated cross-legged on the bed, breezing through her math homework.

Meera came in with a pot of tea. "You're looking well today."

"I am, but he's not."

"No, he's not," Meera agreed. "Why is he in the chair in the first place?"

"He picked it. I offered to trade."

"Well, when he wakes up, give him his tea and see what you can do about coaxing him back to his room. Might as well convalesce in a fresh environment.

It wasn't long before Roshaun did wake up, hair knotted from tossing around on the chair without his nightcap.

"Awake, Sleeping Beauty?" she chuckled.

The joke was lost on the Wellakhit King and he only understood it literally. He gave her a questioning look.

"Never mind. It's tea time." Again the joke did not have the same effect it would have had at home. At home she might have gotten a response somewhere along the lines of, "What? It's not four yet!"

Dairine made the tea taste like hot chocolate while he drank it. "Come on, I can do my homework anywhere. Let's go to your room. This one is all germy."

"I'm perfectly fine here."

She only just barely managed to keep her eyes from rolling. "Well, I want a change of scenery."

Roshaun glanced across the room.

Dairine followed his eyes and saw he was looking in a mirror.

"I can't leave this room. My hair is a mess."

Dairine giggled.

He glared at her. "It's not funny, Dhairine. I have an image to keep up."

"There's got to be a hairbrush in here somewhere. I'll brush your hair for you. Then would you be willing to leave the room?"

He acquiesced.

Near the mirror Dairine found a hairbrush and comb and brought the set over to the boy. "With the back of the chair here I can't brush your hair. Move to the bed," she ordered. She eventually convinced him to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing away from her so that she could work all the knots out without anything in the way.

With the sheer amount of hair he had it would be a long and tedious process. Dairine started at the scalp and was going to work her way down.

"No, no! What are you doing?" His voice was uncharacteristically upset.

"Brushing your hair," she said, puzzled at his outburst. She ran her fingers through her own short hair.

"Top to bottom? You're crazy. That creates more knots. You have to start at the bottom of the hair and work your way up section by section," he instructed.

"That will take forever."

"It's the only correct way to do it," he insisted, right before coughing.

Dairine rolled her eyes but complied in changing her strategy. "This is why I keep my hair short," she remarked. "Much less work."

"The long hair is a tradition," he said. "And it's beautiful besides."

She snorted. "Maybe on women, but on you it just looks ridiculous."

"It does not."

"Yes. It does."

He crossed his arms. "Humanoid, the men where you come from wear their hair entirely too short. So do many of the women." The second sentence was a little pointed and possibly directed at her, but there was a touch of humor evident in his voice.

"I don't get it."

He looked over at her and she accidentally brush a little too hard. He suppressed an, "Ouch!" Instead he said, "What don't you 'get'?"

"Your fascination with long hair and big jewels. That Sun Stone is huge, and the green thing at my throat is about the same size."

He shrugged. "The Sun Stone has meaning and power here."

That didn't answer the question, but she let it go. She brushed his hair a while longer.

"Ouch! Careful."

She was sorely tempted to find a pair of scissors and cut all his hair off right now.

"I heard that," he said, scooting a few inches away.

"Wow. That's first time you heard me since, what, yesterday afternoon?" she asked, a little surprised.

"Yes. You're right. Have you heard me at all since then?"

"No."

They were quiet for a while longer as she brushed his hair. She was half done now and the work was going more quickly. They didn't say anything else until the work was finished. When she was done brushing his hair, she put the brush down. "Now I think you're presentable enough to walk to your room." She reached for the sandals she'd seen earlier and put them on.

He nodded and stood up. He reached out an arm to steady himself and Dairine took his hand, letting go once he seemed steady. She gathered her schoolbooks—and the pot of tea—and, with Spot scuttling along behind them, they went to Roshaun's room.

Roshaun's room was more lavish even than Dairine's guest room. Dairine found a couch and settled herself on it with her schoolwork.

"Are you sure you're comfortable there?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Do you find it odd that we haven't really heard each other since that argument began last night?" he asked, seating himself on his bed.

"No," she lied.

Roshaun looked at her face carefully. Dhairine was a good liar. But not perfect. "Why were you so upset last night, Dhairine?"

The question itself and the soft manner in which it was asked stunned Dairine into unintentional honesty. She knew that he'd seen through her façade and could feel her defenses breaking down. "Do you want the truth?" She broke out in the Speech without meaning to. "_Because I've never been this close to anyone before. And it _scares _me_."

Roshaun was quiet.

Blushing, Dairine explained herself. "I don't have close friends. I never had any, even before I took up wizardry. I can't tell anyone about my wizardry who doesn't already know, and I work my spells alone. There's never been anybody but me. And now…now there's you. You know what I think whether you're reading my mind or not, you're almost as smart as I am…we're the same, but not." She didn't know how to explain it any better. In some ways she was very comfortable with him, but at other times, he completely confused her and made her worry.

A thin smile appeared on Roshaun's face.

Embarrassed, Dairine turned away. She couldn't believe she said all of that. She should leave immediately.

"Dhairine, you're just as scared as I am." There was satisfaction in his voice. "All the while yesterday you pretended you weren't, but you are." And a little wonderment.

"So what, if I am?" she asked.

"You shouldn't be ashamed to say so."

She said nothing.

"Not saying so _is_ an indirect lie, an omission of the truth, Dhairine. Watch your words and your feelings, lest your wizardry betray you."

He had a point there. She snorted a laugh.

Roshaun looked at her, affronted. "I was serious."

"I know. You're always serious. I was just thinking, by your logic, I'd think Nita and Kit's wizardry ought to have gone haywire on them ages ago."

Roshaun smiled. "We are birds of a feather, aren't we?"

This was starting to get fairly sentimental.

Roshaun looked as though he might say more, but turned away with a slight blush instead.

"Where do you keep your nightcap?"

"What?"

Dairine repeated glibly, "Where do you keep your nightcap? Honestly, after spending all that time on your hair, I'm not letting it get knotted up again." She put her schoolbooks down and rose to her feet.

With a sigh, Roshaun pointed to a wardrobe across the room. "Third drawer in the door on the left."

Dairine opened the wardrobe, it's drawers attached to the inside of the doors. She found half a dozen nightcaps waiting there, with slippers. Dairine picked a green cap with a purple ribbon. Walking over, she asked, "Green and purple suit you?" She could have sworn he muttered the word "violet," but she ignored it. She settled herself into a seated position on his bed and started fixing his hair into the cap. She tied the ribbon around his chin to keep it on. He looked ridiculous, but she smiled, wondering if she could find any scissors.

He pulled her into an awkward hug, but started coughing a few seconds later.

"I think it's time you drank more tea."

He drank the tea (again how chocolate flavored in his mind) without protest and she continued sitting next to him in silence.

"Are you hungry, Dhairine?"

"A little."

"I'll send for lunch."

She put a hand on his arm. "Don't waste the energy. I'll go. Where's the kitchen?'

"Do you don't have to go."

"I want to stretch my legs." She had more or less been cooped up since she got to Wellakh. She'd wanted to go exploring today anyway.

With a sigh, he gave her directions.

"I'll be right back." She squeezed his arm and left, her sandals slapping against the floor quietly. Roshaun leaned back into his pillows and lay against them, smiling.

Dairine normally had a fairly decent head for navigating, but somehow she must have taken a wrong turn, because at the end of her directions, she found herself in a gallery of family portraits. Generation upon generation of Sun-Kings and their Queens stared at her eerily, some more benign than others. One portrait was only a blank canvas with the familiar name engraved on a placard underneath. Roshaun's portrait hadn't been painted yet. Judging by the other portraits, they were waiting for him to have a bride.

"Dhairine! How good to see you up and about."

"Lady Miril." Dairine was relieved.

"Those clothes look lovely on you." She hugged her.

"Thank you."

"What are you doing here? I'd think you would be resting." She looked up at the portraits.

"I'm fine now. I was coming to get lunch for us. I got a little distracted by these paintings."

"I'll come with you then. I'm so glad the clothes fit."

Lady Miril led the way and they reached their destination in no time. Lunch for three was readied and the two went back to Roshaun's room.

"Do you hear something?" asked Dairine, just outside the door.

"Music." Lady Miril smiled and opened the door.

Roshaun lay against the pillows, his eyes closed, playing a flute-like instrument.

Dairine took a liking to the tune and settled down on the couch. Lady Miril put down the food and sang softly.

Around the third verse since they'd come in, Roshaun's eyes popped open as he became aware that someone was singing.

A little embarrassed, he put the flute down. Dairine clapped and Lady Miril laughed. Pulling a table and chairs over from one side of the room, they set up lunch.

"I didn't realize I had an audience."

"It sounded nice."

"That, was a _very_ old song," Roshaun's mother said. "An ancient lullaby of sorts."

"What's that instrument called?"

"It's a _cathaw._" Miril picked it up. "Roshaun learned to play this when he was very young. I'm sure there must be another one around here somewhere."

"I don't think I've ever been particularly gifted at music," Dairine said, sensing where the conversation was going.

"I'm sure there's another one around here. I'll find it after we eat. I'm sure Roshaun is boring you."

"No he's not. I've been catching up on some schoolwork," Dairine said.

"Then you've most definitely earned a rest."


	11. Deeper Understanding

**Author's Note:** It's been ages, I know. I'm sorry. I got 2 pages into the chapter (about where the page break is)and didn't know where I was going. But I'm there now. So enjoy. And standard disclaimer blah, blah blah. Forgive me?

And there's a date correction in this chapter. I think in chapter 9 I said she left the house on Tuesday and was returning on Thursday--That was a mistake, I corrected it in this chapter. She left the house Thursday afternoon and it is now Saturday.

By the way, the story is nearly finished. It ends when Dairine goes home.

**

* * *

**

**A Rescue of Sorts**

**Chapter 11: Deeper Understanding**

**_

* * *

_**

Lunch was peaceful, and Dairine spent much of the afternoon sitting with Lady Miril and Roshaun, attempting to learn how to play the _cathaw_. It didn't come easily, but by the time they were through, Dairine had managed to make at least a few of the notes not sound like cats being run over by a truck.

Roshaun was getting sicker at first, but by the end of their lesson seemed to be doing better.

"Would you enjoy a walk through the gardens later on?" asked Lady Miril.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'll come for you after dinner then. At the moment I'm sure there's something I should be attending to." With a smile that seemed to Dairine that gave the impression of a wink, Lady Miril stood and floated off in her graceful manner.

It was only then that Dairine realized who Lady Miril reminded her of. The memory came with a pang of pain. It was her mother. The way Lady Miril seemed to float around the room reminded her of the way her mother used to dance around the house. She felt horrible; she hadn't even thought about her in days, she'd been so completely engrossed in her time on Wellakh.

"Are you alright, Dhairine?" asked Roshaun, after she hadn't said anything for a while.

"Oh. Just fine." She picked up the _cathaw_ and tried a few more notes. It didn't sound great.

"Dhairine?"

"Yes?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"My mother," she said, just barely audible.

Another silence ensued.

"I suppose, you want to go back to your sister and your father. You miss them. I understand." He sneezed.

Dairine hesitated. "I _do_ miss them. But I don't have to go back. Not _right_ now anyway. Once I do go back, neither of them will let me out of their sight for weeks and I'm sure I'll be grounded. And my Seniors are going to throw a fit when I get back and I'll have to hear all about how irresponsible I was for leaving in the first place, even though my heart was in the right place. No, I'd much rather stay here for a while longer. As long as I can. I did promise Neets that I'd be home by Sunday to go to school on Monday though." She sighed.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you want. And visit again."

She squeezed his hand. "Thank you. You're welcome back in New York too, you know that, right?"

Roshaun smiled at her.

Then the moment was over and they went back into normalcy (well, what passed as normalcy for the Wellakhit king and the New York wizard). Dairine's usual certain and cheerful attitude were back and Roshaun reassumed the usual smattering of arrogance that was normally on his face.

"So now, all we have to do is figure out how to end this little drought problem and we're all set," Dairine said, brimming with confidence that was three quarters real and only one quarter for show. "Now let's go over all the details of this again."

Roshaun started listing everything he'd already told her about the draught and it's theorized causes. Dhairine called Spot over to copy it all down. It was much easier to have these things in writing.

Roshaun, whose expertise was more or less in sun stars, was sure that there had been no change in the sun. The draught was being caused by a lack of water coming in, not too much sun drying it up. It was not instantly new. It had been getting progressively worse, but very recently it seemed that water simply wasn't coming to where it should be. At all.

"Have you looked into old weather logs?"

Roshaun cocked his head to one side.

"I don't know if it's the case here or not, but back home, before humans existed, there were several ice ages. Natural periods in time when the weather just got cold and stayed far colder than our earth is today—much colder. Maybe this dry time is similar: a natural occurrence that just occurs after so many thousands of years."

"We don't have any record of a drought like this before. Nothing as severe as this is threatening to become."

Dairine shifted her position and sat on her heels. "Okay. So. Where does the water usually come from? Rivers, or rain, or what?"

"Partly rain, partly river. But the main rivers running through this area are fed by rain further away."

"So ultimately, it's a lack of rain," Dairine finished.

"It would seem so, but there's nothing to account for why that should be the case or how we can fix it. The only reason to find the cause of something is to figure out how best to cure it," he told her. He leaned back on his elbows on the bed. "We're clearly getting nowhere at the moment."

She agreed. Dairine wished it were otherwise, but it wasn't. They had identified the problem easily enough—there's no water—but how do you make more water appear where there isn't any? The Universe doesn't let you make something from nothing. "What about the river, or the air? Can't we talk to them? Convince them to behave other than the way they're behaving now."

"We might. Simple persuasion hasn't done much thus far. It would have to be a rather complicated spell, encompassing this entire region. If it's successful here, we can bring in more wizards to attempt a full recovery so to speak, but we need to work on a decent sized region to begin with—"

"So we know that it's workable on a large scale," Dairine finished.

"Exactly."

They both knew that if anyone around could come up with a solution, it was the two of them. It was just that simple. The two of them were a unique combination. And they were on active status, which meant they were the solution to this particular problem. It wasn't a coincidence. There were no coincidences in Life. Things tended to happen the way the Powers intended them to happen so that others things would then have the chance to happen in their own time.

Still they would probably need other wizards to help supply the power for the spell. Even Dairine wasn't as strong in pure, unadulterated power as she once was. She couldn't stay that young forever after all. Eventually everyone has to grow up and move on. Sheer strength gives way to the knowledge of how to use what power you have left.

* * *

Dairine and Roshaun ate dinner in his room and his mother stopped by shortly after they'd finished eating. "Did you enjoy your afternoon together? Was it restful?"

Dairine and Roshaun had baffled themselves with the water issue for a while before calling on Spot to see if he could replicate the _cathaw_ music; Spot could record it, but couldn't create the flowing notes from nothing. The wooden instrument was growing on Dairine.

"We worked a little, but have been resting since."

"And Roshaun has kept up with his tea?" She directed the question at Dairine, though it hardly seemed to be a question.

"Yes, he has." Meera had arrived to bring more a while ago. "That tea does work really well."

"Or maybe some other influence has done wonders towards his improvement."

Dairine could have sworn Miril's eyes _twinkled_ (as corny as the word "twinkle" sounded).

"Of course, please, both of you, go on speaking as if I weren't sitting right here."

"Don't worry, we intend to," his mother said.

Rather than look sulky (as he might have), Roshaun appeared playfully miffed instead. The Sun King—or Ice-king depending on his mood— appeared to be thawing out quite nicely this weekend. "Well, if I'm to be ignored it may as well be in fresh garments and in fresh air," he declared. Mustering his dignity, Roshaun stood from the bed and strode over to his wardrobe.

Minor adjustments to the way they were seated and Roshaun was no longer in Dairine's line of sight, nor his mother's.

"He really has recovered quite well, Dhairine. And he's even in a fairly good mood," his mother observed. "Are you sure you must be going back tomorrow?"

Dairine nodded. She really wished she could stay, but how long had she been away from home? She'd been here, what, _three_ days now? And she'd only been home for four before that—mostly not even home then, but looking for Roshaun or at school. How many days had she been gone before _that_? Too many for her dad's nerves. She _did_ have to go back. She had school on Monday. She'd been here since Thursday afternoon. Or was it Thursday night? She'd had to go back tomorrow. Not to say that she couldn't come back; she had a standing invitation and (more importantly) a job that needed finishing. Carl and Tom couldn't ground her to the solar system if she had a job to finished, could they? "I promised my sister, and Dad, and Seniors I'd be back by tomorrow. I've _got_ to go."

"Well. Keep in mind that you're welcome at anytime. And you're such a good influence on Roshaun."

"I'm dressed," Roshaun announced, not more than a foot and a half behind Dairine's chair. "You _are _welcome anytime the Aethyrs are willing to spare you from the service of your own world." He glanced at his mother. "And I do not require a round the clock good influence to keep me in a tolerable mood." He looked _almost_ amused.

"You've been in better tempers and better moods since she's been here." She tried very hard not to smile too broadly at her son.

"I _would_ like a breath of air." Roshaun was clearly done with this line of talk for the moment and, truth told, so was Dairine. She stood and looked at him in a light blue outfit similar to others she'd seen him wear; no floppy t-shirt. It was almost exactly the same color as the ensemble she was currently sporting. Almost exactly. He was surreptitiously trying to check for knots in the mirror across the room.

"I brushed it," Dairine snapped when she noticed what he was doing. "There shouldn't _be _knots."

Roshaun looked as though he might just possibly feel a touch guilty, and then decided to stare down his nose at her instead. "Knots happen, and that was hours ago. I don't intend to try and turn tangles into fashion."

Dairine had a very vicious urge to find a pair of scissors. That being a particularly strong thought, Roshaun happened to catch it.

"_No_." He glared at his guest, and his mother stood and interceded.

"If you ask her politely, Roshaun, Dhairine might be inclined to brush out those imaginary tangles for you."

"What about—"

"We will go for our walk in the gardens afterwards. Your father and I will come and collect you soon. I'll send someone in to collect the dinner plates if they aren't already on their way." She exited gracefully.

Dairine stood and faced him. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you going to sit down, or aren't you?" She couldn't reach the top of his head if he was standing.

He lowered himself into the chair she had vacated and she went to retrieve his brush from the vanity. Roshaun sat sideways on the chair so the high back wouldn't interfere with her access to his hair as she sat on the bed to brush it. "Would you _really_ cut my hair off, Dhairine?" he asked, curiously.

Dairine arched an eyebrow. "Do you_ think _that I would?"

Roshaun curiously twisted around to study Dairine's face. "You _would_, you really would." He sounded mildly surprised.

"I would," Dairine agreed. "But I won't. Not now anyway." She smiled, he untwisted himself, and she started brushing. When she finished, she moved to put the brush back on the vanity.

"Wait," Roshaun said, putting a hand out. His voice had an odd, soft quality to it.

"What?"

Abruptly he became himself again. "If you're to out walking with my parents and I, you need to be suitably dressed and groomed."

She blinked. "I'm dressed. In fact, I'm wearing Wellakhit garb." What could he possibly be complaining about? She wasn't going to put either of those dresses on—not for walking. That would just be stupid.

"You haven't brushed your hair. Can't have knots, can we? Sit." He stood up.

"Would a 'please' kill you?" she asked, peeved, and knowing that she probably hadn't said "please" to him about anything in the past three days.

The barest of smiles twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Please sit."

Rolling her eyes, Dairine sat down, trying to remember the last time she'd brushed it since her arrival. Just maybe he had a point. She was surprised at how gently he seemed to be able to go through her hair, working knots without ripping them out of her scalp. She never even flinched. She wondered whether he brushed his own hair, or someone else did it for him. She couldn't imagine being able to manage that much hair on the back of your own head, but on the other hand, if he _couldn't_ do it himself, how did manage to look so good back on her own Earth? It seemed to take ages to finish, though she knew it had to only be a fraction of the time she had spent on brushing his hair. It seemed quite natural actually to have him standing behind her, brushing her hair.

"I'm done." He set the brush down beside him on the bed.

She stood and turned to face him, not realizing that he'd stood also, and more or less crashed into him. He put out a hand to steady her. They regarded each other in silence for a moment. Her brain was screaming at her that this was awkward—brushing each other's hair, standing there now, looking at one another much too closely—but it didn't _feel_ awkward. Maybe it should have, but it _didn't_. And wizard's intuition was usually right. The silence—and the closeness—was comfortable.

There was a knock on the door. Roshaun picked up his brush and mechanically took it over to the vanity; Dairine moved the chair over to the corner table.

There was another knock. "Aren't you going to answer that?" Dairine asked him.

Roshaun looked startled at her voice; he was over by the vanity by then. "What?"

"This is your room. Aren't you going to answer your door?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

There was yet a third knock. Roshaun raised his voice, "Come in!"

One of the maids came in (a touch irritated), and collected the dinner plates and their accessories. She did her work quickly and efficiently, and left.

"So, you really must be leaving tomorrow?" he asked quietly, seating himself on the vanity stool.

Dairine bit her lip and moved to sit on his bed. "I already explained this to your mother. I've got commitments back home. Classes, teachers, Nita, and my dad. I'll be back. The Seniors _won't_ ground me again, not now when I'm on Active status for a job here." Hadn't she said the _opposite_ of that, less than an hour ago?She pulled her knees up to her and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on them. "Wizardry isn't respected or acknowledged there, and even if it was, not everybody is royalty, Roshaun. I can't just take off whenever I please or the government will question my dad. The school is already suspicious from all the time I've missed. But summer is only a month or so away. And I'll be back before that to help with the drought here. And the government, if you still want that help."

He looked over at her.

"If you've still got to decide about that, it's alright. I wouldn't take your decision about whether or not and how much power to give up lightly. But I know you _can _do the job, you just don't have to do all of it yourself."

He opened his mouth to say something, and there was yet another knock on the door. He looked very tired all of a sudden. He stood and walked around the room to the door, opening it. "Yes?"

"Are you ready?"

Dairine was slipping her sandals on, which she'd taken off at some earlier point in the day. She looked at the Miril and Nelaid on the other side of the door. "Yes, we're ready."

As the four of them started for the gardens, Lady Miril smiled at Dairine. "Your hair looks very nice, _tekeh._ And that color suits you," she added, glancing at Dairine's clothing.

Dairine grinned awkwardly. She watched Lady Miril quicken her stepto joinher husband and Roshaun slowed pace to Dairine's side.

The walked through the gardens was relaxing, and there was a calm breeze stirring. Dairine looked around as the stars started to come out and knew she was certainly going to miss this place. She hoped she could come back soon. Despite her assurances to Roshaun, there was no guarantee as to how quickly she'd be able to come back. But she'd told the truth: she had responsibilities at home. Among them was her father, still adjusting to life as a single parent, and still in love with his deceased wife. Day by day, he grew stronger though, with his daughters by his side.

When Roshaun started coughing, Lady Miril decided it was time to go back inside for the night. Her son had had as much fresh air as was clearly good for him for the moment.

Dairine, still a little fatigued with the last of her flu, was ready to go in as well. The four of them paused outside of Roshaun's door; Roshaun looked at Dairine—he'd missed a dose of his keritzal root tea this evening.

She looked at Lady Miril. "Would you please ask Meera to bring more tea? And lots of it." She gave Roshaun a firm look that told him to go inside, and she followed him.

Inside, Roshaun's bed had been straightened out (wrinkled from sitting on it), and a second bed had been made up on the couch, complete with pillows, blankets, sheets, and a neatly folded nightgown and bonnet.

Roshaun had wandered over to his wardrobe to seek out pajamas. Dairine picked up her nightgown and took it into Roshaun's bathroom. When she was dressed, she came out and saw Roshaun just slipping his pajama shirt on. It matched his pajama pants; both a sort of mint green. Dairine looked at the puffed sleeves of her white nightgown; the ribbons were pastel green.

She wordlessly led him to his bed under protest that it was too early to sleep, and that he should be on the couch and she should take the more comfortable sleeping place.

"Stop trying to be chivalrous. That couch is perfectly comfortable; a good deal more comfortable than the chair you've slept in the last two nights, I'll bet. Get in bed and settle down. If you fall asleep before Meera gets here, I'll wake you."

At last, Roshaun decided it was better to settle down as she suggested. He'd been improving quite well for a while, only to crash again.

Dairine, imitating Roshaun's actions the night before, tucked him in tightly and kissed him on the forehead. "Good night, Roshaun."

"Good night, Dhairine."

She smiled and wriggled under the blankets on the couch. She remained sitting up and whistled for Spot to come over. She might as well do her homework while she waited for Meera. She turned all of the lights out, and set up a single wizard's light in front of her to work by. Soon, Roshaun was snoring.

**

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**

**Author's Note:** Hi, I know all the hair brushing and stuff may have seemed strange, but I swear there was some sort of point. I didn't want this story to seem like it was driven by hormonal teenagers (a.k.a. Dairine and Roshaun) and with hair as long as Roshaun, it realistically needs to be brushed. I wanted something a little deeper than that than crazy lusty teenagers. They're caring _for_ each other and caring _about_ each other. If they don't mess it up, they've got the chance to be the genuine article. Alright, I guess I sound sappy. So yeah. That's all.

And I'm sorry again for the delay. I just got back from Spain Sunday night(tried to upload this yesterday and the site was giving megrief)and they lost my luggage and my mom left my camera on the plane and the luggage finally came, but the camera with my only graduation pictures on it, is gone.


	12. Health and Sickness

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize is property of Diane Duane.

**Author's Note:** It's been forever, I know, and I'm sorry! I was in Spain, then on a road trip, and then my harddrive sat in a box for weeks waiting to get sent with all my stuff to college. I'm all set up and good now though, so enjoy!

**Chapter 12: Health and Sickness**

When Dairine decided she had had enough homework, she told Spot to wake her at the necessary intervals and—after one last check to make sure the snoozing king seemed all right—went to sleep on the sofa. The first time Dairine was woken up was by Spot—she (to prevent a relapse) and Roshaun both drank the keritzal root tea; the second time she was woken up was by Roshaun himself. 

"Dhairine?" Roshaun called in the dark room. "Dhairine?" He started coughing.

Dairine blinked, slowly regaining consciousness. "What is it, Roshaun?"

He finally stopped coughing.

"Well? What is it?"

She was still tired, but gradually waking.

Roshaun sounded thoroughly awake, but pitifully miserable. "I can't sleep," he said. She could almost _hear_ the pout in his voice.

"Try."

"I've _been_ trying."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

There was no answer for a while and Dairine had just about drifted back to dreamland when Roshaun responded to her question. "Sing me to sleep?"

Dairine snorted. She sat up and looked over at him. "You must be nuts. I _don't_ sing. And believe me—you wouldn't want to hear me try." She was about to lay back down on the couch again and go to sleep when her conscience got the better of her. "Is there anything else I could do to help you?"

Roshaun sneezed. "Stay awake and keep me company in my misery."

Dairine was sorely tempted to throw something at him but stopped herself. "All right." She summoned a wizard light and, hugging her blanket around her, walked over to the bed and sat down. "I'll keep you company so long as you don't sneeze on me."

Facing away from her momentarily, Roshaun broke into a coughing fit. "I won't."

"Well, start with another dose of tea. It's about time," she said, after a brief pause.

Roshaun grabbed the large cp from next to his bed and Dairine spelled it to taste like hot chocolate again.

They sat in silence. Roshaun half sat up against his headboard under the blankets and Dairine sat next to him wrapped in the blanket she brought from the couch.

She leaned her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes. "I did some reading up on Wellakh."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Interesting history. I think—maybe—moving away from kingships would be the next step. But not all at once, mind you." She paused.

Roshaun sat up a little more. "Go on."

"Well, in the last, say, hundred years over all, has the standard of living increased? Are less people hungry every night? Are there more people being educated? Do they have more time to think? Are they happier?"  
"Maybe, yes, yes, sometimes, and no," responded Roshaun. "But I think I do see what you mean. They are not so happy now because they're smart enough to see how things could be different."

Dairine nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. Your average person has mostly moved beyond the stage of accepting things exactly as they are and they understand that the world around them could be better than it is."

The only problem is that they see the solution as lying in the regicide of whoever the current monarch is, rather than reformation of the system itself which dates back for so many generations."

"Exactly. So the key is to spread out the power and reform the system of government."

"A little rainwater wouldn't hurt either," he added wryly.

Dairine agreed. "But we're working on that. And we'll get there—"

"Sooner or later," cut in Roshaun.

"Not at all. We're get there _sooner_." Her tone was confident. This was just another assignment to get through. And they could handle it.

"Dhairine?"

"Yeah?"

Roshaun took a deep breath. "Tell me about your life."

Dairine glanced over at him. His eyes were closed and he shifted into a more comfortable position. He'd probably be asleep soon and she'd got back over to the couch. In the meantime she could settle into the mound of pillows. "Well, I was smart, even young. Taught myself a lot of things." She frowned. "Never quite fit in. Small, but I learned to handle bullies so that they couldn't touch me. Nita's always had trouble with bullies—until she start her wizardry."

"What about your school? What is it like there?"

Dairine blinked. Maybe he wasn't as asleep as she thought he was. "In my part of the planet, people have to go to school from the time they're five years old and usually 'til they're 18. A lot of people stay in school for another four to eight years." She adjusted one of the pillows behind her. "Schools can have hundreds or I've a couple of thousand kids in them. Colleges are even bigger; some might have 40,000 students. Classes of twenty or thirty kids in a classroom are average, staying there for six or eight hours a day."

"It sounds…intense."

Dairine shook her head. "It's not really. Classes aren't that hard, we have breaks, and half the kids don't do anything anyway. And it's not all academic. There's always PE—physical education that is—and art and music in the schools that haven't cut it yet for the sake of the budget." She shook her head; it was just wrong. "What about education here?"

"My own, or in general?" he asked.

"Both. Yours first." Dairine yawned. It _was_ late; or early. "Personal tutor for life?"

"No actually. When I was very young I was in a group with perhaps a dozen other children chosen at random from the surrounding area to learn basic manners and simple socialization with. When I was a little older I, boys and girls my own age and reasonable social standing were brought here to attend lessons with me; a king who can get along with no one but himself does no one any good."

"That makes sense. What did you study?"

"Everything."

She gave him a look that said clearly, _You can't have studied _everything

"It seemed that way. Reading, writing, math, etiquette, negotiations, history. There was little I didn't study."

"Music? Philosophy? Other planets?" challenged Dairine.

"Music I began as a young child, which you know, and of course I studied philosophy."

"And what about your wizardry?" Dairine asked.

Roshaun was quiet. "I didn't always know whether or not I had wizardry. I knew wizards existed, but I didn't know I was one. I had hoped, but there was no way of knowing until the time was right. Wizardry was not part of my lessons. I had to learn it on my own."

Dairine could sense that he wasn't at ease and patted him on the shoulder. "One of the reasons we know what our wizardry is worth is because we have to learn it ourselves, because pay a high price for it." She looked at him carefully and locked eyes. "And that price isn't so much the spell backlash or anything; it's our lives. Our very lives. We have all ready the warnings and those of us who are wizards—you and I both—decided it was worth it. That the Art was worth the devotion of our lives and energy until we die."

"Using what life we have to slow down the Death of the universe," he said softly.

Dairine nodded. "We read it, and we still signed up for it. And no matter how tough it is sometimes, I wouldn't trade it."

"Neither would I, Dhairine."

Dairine wasn't sure exactly when it happened, but she fell asleep. She knew that they had talked for a few minutes about why exactly they had been drawn towards Wizardry, but the conversation had eventually slowed and they both stopped talking. And then they were asleep. Her eyes weren't open yet, but she knew she was awake. Slowly, she opened her eyes. Facing her, about a foot and a half away was Roshaun.

His eyes had opened a few seconds before hers. "Good morning."

She yawned. "Morning."

"Thank you for keeping me company until I fell asleep last night. It was nice to have someone to talk to," he said.

"Of course I stayed awake with you. You took care of me when I was sick."

Roshaun frowned and rolled over, away from her. The way she was speaking it sounded as though she was paying a debt or returning a favor by taking care of him.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"I'm just fine."

She blinked, startled. "Well, good. I wanted you to feel better. I know being sick is miserable." Roshaun sure was moody. He probably felt worse than he looked at the moment. "I don't want you to be miserable."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed sincere and he felt better. Maybe she didn't feel like she was paying off a debt after all.

They were sitting up and discussing the water problem when breakfast came in. It was a few minutes before Dairine noticed that Roshaun wasn't eating. The drought debate went on for several more minutes before Dairine finally decided to say something. They were sitting on the bed, plates in front of them. She could tell Roshaun was doing his best to look as animated as he could and not as though he felt sick. "How are you feeling?" Dairine was hungry and started piling things onto her plate. Fruits, and the weird crepe-things, and even a little breakfast meat.

"Better."

Dairine studied him a moment.

"I mean it, I am feeling better," Roshaun insisted.

She looked pointedly at his empty plate. "I thought you said you were 'feeling better' now?" she asked.

Roshaun eyed the food, and started his defense. "I am. I just don't want to press my luck in the matter."

She put some food on his plate. If he honestly were feeling better, he'd eat it.

Roshaun poked it with his fork.

"I thought you weren't feeling sick," she challenged. "I guess you'd better go back to sleep and I'll go walk around the palace after I finish eating."

His face turned stubborn and he stuck his fork into a piece of fruit and put it to his mouth. Roshaun ate his breakfast and even kept up a little bit of conversation. However, the breakfast didn't want to stay down.

About ten minutes after they finished eating, Roshaun was running for the bathroom.

Dairine held back his hair and handed him a towel for his face when he stood up.

Needless to say, he looked more than a little queasy and…possibly embarrassed?

"Are you all right, Roshaun?" she asked, leading him back to his bed.

He bit his lip. "I should have let you go walk around the palace."

She arched an eyebrow.

"I did _not _want you to see me like that." He settled on top of the blankets.

Dairine gave a dry laugh. "Hey, you saw me the same way. Besides, you're human."

Roshaun didn't even look at her.

She sat down next to him and he started muttering to himself. "What is it?"

"I know I've got it somewhere, but I can't remember where."

"What and where?"

Roshaun stopped his muttering. "When you were vomiting I procured some leaves that improve the freshness of one's breath from the maid who came in. I forgot to give them to you then, but I may as well use them now." He found them in the drawer of his bedside table, stuck the leaves in his mouth, and chewed them for a moment, eventually discarding the remnants in a napkin. "Much better now," he said to himself, exhaling.

Dairine sniffed. The leaves _were_ strong. They reminded her of mint.

There was a minute of silence.

Dairine mentally squirmed. They'd had silences since she'd been there. Some of them comfortable, others awkward. This one was awkward.

"Do you have any set plan as to when you're going to leave?" Roshaun asked, quietly.

_Oh, yeah. Like that's a tension breaker_, Dairine thought sarcastically, hoping he didn't hear her. He didn't seem to hear. "Whenever I feel like it. The truth is, once I get home, my inter-planet sightseeing might be somewhat limited. Not to mention my dad might just ground me on top of it for not telling him that I was leaving." She snorted. It sounded funny. She was possibly going to get grounded for planet hopping without permission. "On the other hand, I'm on assignment here. So even though I'm going home, I'm still going to be getting more information about what's going on here, and neither my Seniors or my dad'll stop me from coming back on assignment."

Roshaun managed a small smile. "So I take it you aren't eager to go home."

Dairine leaned back against the headboard. "Not in particular."

He found himself feeling a little better and searched out his _cathaw_. He sat up and played it. She closed her eyes and relaxed, listening to the music wash over her and she couldn't help but smile. She had to wonder when she'd gotten so sentimental, but she didn't care about that just now. Roshaun played almost automatically; some tunes were old lullabies, others he made up as he went along.


	13. Lunch

**Disclaimer: **All recognizable characters and settings property of Diane Duane.

**Author's Note:** I know it's been a long time, but I'm sorry, I've started college. Classes are crazy and I haven't had a chance to write in a long time. This chapter is longer than most; the last few paragraphs took me forever--I couldn't decide what to say. And I went back and reread the last two books because for the upcoming chapteres I want Roshaun as in character as I can possibly make him, because it's particularly important. I may (if I've ever get around to it) go back and fix correct terminologies like Lord Prince instead of "sir" for Roshaun and etc. Anyway, if you're waiting for Harry Potter or (eek) Artemis Fowl updates, they're coming. I've been really busy. Midterms already hit and my first thesis paper was due. Enjoy the read this is a nice long chapter!

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_Chapter 13: Lunch

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_

They were startled out of their semi-trance state when Nelaid himself knocked on the door and came in. Still, startled or not, their content bubble of music and quietude was too comfortable to be wholly disrupted just yet. Dairine slowly opened her eyes and turned her head towards the door. Roshaun's arms lowered themselves halfway—elbows resting on the bed, but _cathaw_ and hands mid-air. "Come in," he said.

And that was when Nelaid came in. He stood in silent assessment for a few brief seconds. "You look remarkably healthier at the moment, Roshaun. Dhairine, how are you this morning?"

Dairine was ready to reply "f.i.n.e." but thought better of it, because right now, she really _was_ fine. Better than fine. Possibly even _good_. "I'm doing very well." She looked at Roshaun. He seemed better now than he had before breakfast. The wonders a little bit of rest could do a person.

"I'm feeling much better, Father," Roshaun said. He even sat up fully and set down the _cathaw_.

"A little music this morning?" Nelaid asked curiously, picking up the hollow brown instrument and examining it.

"Yes," Dairine said. "Roshaun was starting to teach it to me, but I'm not exactly picking it up quickly. I thought it'd be nicer just to listen."

Nelaid considered a moment. "Since you're both feeling so well, and you happen to be leaving today, would you mind an appearance early this afternoon? After lunch perhaps?"

Roshaun's eyes narrowed slightly. Rarely were these things a "perhaps" matter; they either were, or were not, and there was no question involved. "Why?"

"I thought you might both wish to leave this room for a time; eat something and say farewell."

Roshaun sat up. He directed his mind to Dairine's without take his eyes off of his father. _Does it sound to you like he's sending me away?_

_I don't think so. The _leaving_ was directed at _me_, not _usDairine thought back, trying to keep her face neutral as she glanced casually at the ceiling. _Do you want to go to lunch?_

Roshaun shot her a look. _Lunch? I could not stomach breakfast this morning. _He paused. _But I would like to get out of the room for a while._

"We'd love to go to downstairs to eat in a while," Dairine answered politely, carefully avoiding any mention of a public appearance that Nelaid had mentioned.

"Excellent. Fresh clothing has been set out for you in your room."

Dairine bit her tongue. That clothing had been set out for her was most assuredly a bad sign. It meant that Luke Skywalker and her beloved cargos were out of the question. It seemed too late to get out of it now. Whatever semi-formal event was planned, she was stuck with it now; she had already agreed to go.

With only a few more phrases as to indicate when they should be where, Nelaid left Dairine and Roshaun alone again.

"You agreed to go," Roshaun said, slightly aggravated as he sunk into the pillows.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted to get out of the room; I'm not sick. I can leave whenever I feel like it."

Roshaun's expression almost qualified as pouty. "Then leave if you want to."

"I said I'll leave _if_ I feel like it. I don't feel like it." She crossed her arms and glared at him. "I don't feel like it right now. Is that a problem?"

A knock on the door brought the serving girl in who cleared away their breakfast dishes. It suddenly dawned on Dairine that the dishes seemed as though they'd been sitting there for some time; longer than they usually did. The staff must be particularly busy this morning with something.

When the serving girl was gone from the room again, Dairine looked at Roshaun. "So where were we?"

"Something about me having a problem?" he replied coolly.

She glared. "You have _lots_ of problems. Be specific." She sighed. "Never mind. I remember. I don't feel like leaving yet. Is that some sort of problem?"

Roshaun pursed his lips into a thin line. "There is no problem on my part about what you do or do not decide to do."

A sulky, uncomfortable silence ensued. That comment sounded like it was referring to any action she might ever do or not do, not whether or not she was planning to leave the room.

Dairine glared at Roshaun. "I'm going to go back to my room and get dressed. Come find me when you've grown a better disposition." She got up off the bed. "Come on, Spot." Soon, she and her semi-sentient computer were gone and Roshaun was alone again.

He rubbed his forehead. Where had the conversation gone wrong? He had absolutely no desire to go down and see his family or anyone else who happened to be around the palace at this time. If he went down and ate, he was likely going to vomit up anything he tried to stomach. It was _not_ the way his people should see their king—weak, disgusting, sick. This was especially true of a king who has not been in place very long and is still considered very young. He needed to be strong. Yes, he had said he wanted to get out of the room—and he still wanted that, but what he wanted was to go out and stretch his legs, perhaps even get a little fresh air. He did not _want _to talk about politics with council members or whomsoever else his father had called in. He just wanted to talk to Dhairine a little while longer.

And what was wrong with her? He wanted to know how her headstrong, intelligent, arrogant mind worked, what made her think the way she did. But now she'd gotten angry and probably would refuse to speak to him for a few hours. Maybe even refuse to speak to him at all before she left. He hoped that was not the case.

He wasn't exactly sure where he'd gone wrong in the conversation. Or maybe he hadn't done anything. Perhaps she was the one who seemed to blow everything out of proportion and misinterpret things and it really had nothing to do with him at all. Maybe she was just being her moody self.

Roshaun stood, clutching the headboard in a moment of dizziness. It passed and he made his way toward the wardrobe to find an appropriate shirt and robe. He took off his shirt and was contemplating what to wear when there was a knock, and then someone came in.

He turned around irately, figuring it might be Dhairine, come back with a vicious remark to fling at him.

It wasn't.

"Meera, what are you doing here?"

"You're behind on your next dose. I didn't make it back in here earlier, but a girl really must sleep at some time." She inspected Roshaun's face from as best she could across the room. "You're upset." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not feeling well," Roshaun said, deciding to state the obvious rather than lie.

Meera looked around. "And where's your friend?"

"She went back to her own quarters to prepare for lunch," he said shortly. He wanted Meera to stop asking questions already, but it was not a good idea to quarrel with the woman in charge of your health.

She stood there and watched him drink the keritzal root tea. Without someone to trick your mind into making it seem as though it tasted better, the stuff was miserable to drink. Unfortunately for Roshaun, there was no Dairine around to deceive his mind and he was forced to endure the foul concoction unaided.

Fighting the urge to tell Roshaun what he should do in regards to his pretty friend, Meera left. The boy would just have to work this one out on his own. It wouldn't do any good for her to try and explain a woman's mind to him. He was a man; there was no possible way to explain the female brain to him in a way he could comprehend.

Dairine flung herself into the chair and glared at the mirror. She wasn't even exactly sure why things had just turned sour with Roshaun. They'd been getting along perfectly fine—just them and the music—and then his father had come in to talk to them and things just hadn't gone well. What had made the brat so aggravated? It was her last day here and she wouldn't be allowed to travel for fun for a long while she was sure, the very least he could do was stay in a decent mood and not make the day miserable.

"Spot, I want to send a message."

The computer skittered a few feet closer to her on the floor. "Proceed."

"Nita, I'll be home this afternoon. Don't worry about me. I'm recovered, but still on assignment. End message. Send."

That certainly didn't make her feel better. Fight or no fight, she didn't honestly _want_ to leave Wellakh. She liked it here. At any rate, she liked as much of "here" as she'd seen so far. It had its problems, but so did everywhere else. On another visit maybe she'd get to see more of Wellakh. But clearly not this trip. She'd have to do it another time.

What got Roshaun so upset that quickly? She couldn't think of anything. Sure, she'd seen him throwing up this morning and that was embarrassing, but 1) he'd seen her the same way already, and 2) they'd gotten over that and ended up in a better, more comfortable place. So, what had set him off? She wondered if she'd ever figure out the way his sharp, pigheaded, conceited mind worked.

She glanced at the clothing and wondered who had picked it out. It was only slightly more translucent than the gauzy outfit she'd worn before, and was in a very pale green. The cut was different from before as well—more open at the shoulders and neck. In fact, it looked like it would hang completely off her shoulders in a Princess Jasmine sort of way (though this would cover her midriff). She wasn't sure whether or not she liked these differences yet. She hadn't put the outfit on, just merely glowered at it. She looked down at the green gem. She'd taken it off while brushing her hair and was holding it. It never seemed as heavy on her neck as it felt in her hands right now. When she wore it, she forgot it was even there. It would look very nice with the clothes that had been set out for her. In fact, the cut of the top showed enough skin that it would be impossible not to see the gem if she were to wear it. She glanced down at the orange-gold sandals. At least they looked relatively comfortable. Definitely much better than the unfortunate heels she had created on her first night here.

She got dressed and sat over on her bed, hugging her knees to her. She wished she knew what was going on in his head. Earlier they'd been friendly. They were able to touch hands, and speak together, and just sit in silence and none of it was weird. Then, all of a sudden, words weren't making sense and the quiet was awkward. How and when did that change? They were fine until his father came in.

She wasn't exactly sure how, but she fell asleep. Maybe she wasn't quite as totally recovered as she thought; normally it wasn't like her to just fall asleep because nothing was occupying her mind. She had thought s going round and round it now, and it seemed her mind had just decided to give up on the struggle and recoup a little bit.

Roshaun knocked at the door once. Twice. A third time. Dairine didn't answer or open the door. He hesitated, worried. Was Dhairine ignoring him, or did she not hear him for some reason? He knocked again—with no response—and decided to open the door slowly.

There was Dairine, sprawled out inelegantly on her bed, snoring a little. One leg stuck out at an odd angle, the other was curled up underneath her. One of her arms was flung across her body, the other was at her side.

Stepping quietly, so as not to make a sound, he approached the bed and sat on the edge of it. He reached out a hesitant hand to smooth her hair back, off of her forehead.

When Dairine's eyes opened a few seconds later, Roshaun was smoothing her hair back. "What are you doing?"

Roshaun dropped his hand to his side, opened his mouth, and paused. "Nothing. I came to fetch you for lunch and you didn't answer the door. You hair is a mess. You should have brushed it."

"I _did_ brush it. You must have mussed it up yourself. I'm not brushing it again. I don't want to."

"If you insist, I will do it."

Dairine sat up on one elbow. "I'm not insisting that you do anything. I just said _I_ won't brush it." In her hand was the green gem; she ran a finger over it.

"Then I will do it. You cannot possibly go down and meet people looking the way you do now." Roshaun went to the mirror to find the brush and looked back at her. "I assure you, if my royal sire had garments laid out and was attempting to be overly polite to us both, there will be people to meet." He returned to find Dairine seated with her legs dangling off the bed. He sat behind her and started brushing her hair back, section by section.

Dairine was kind of amazed that Roshaun managed to brush her hair without yanking at any knots. The boy had had lots of brushing practice she was sure, but even so it's more difficult to avoid yanking painfully at someone else's scalp than your own.

Roshaun continued brushing her hair long after all of the knots were out. So long as he sat there brushing her hair, he didn't have to talk and the silence wasn't awkward.

"Roshaun?" Her voice had a quiet, questioning tone when she finally spoke.

"Yes?" he asked, setting down the brush.

Her voice resumed its normal volume and pitch. "We should get going for lunch."

"Yes. We should." He waited for her to stand up first. He had no desire whatsoever to go down to eat with his family and the others.

Dairine stood, not radiating confidence for once (merely giving off the occasional glitter of it).

Roshaun stood next to her and saw the green gem in her fist. "Allow me."

She glanced down at her hand; she hadn't been aware she was even holding the stone.

The Wellakhi king gently pried the stone from her fingers and hung it around her neck carefully, avoiding getting any of her hair caught in the sentence of Speech that the stone hung from. He may have hesitated a half second longer than necessary with his hands on her neck, but let it pass.

Formal etiquette clearly ingrained in his head, Roshaun offered his arm to the lady and she took it. They started walking and didn't stop until they were just outside the door to the dining room.

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" asked Roshaun, quietly.

"As if we have a choice in the matter now? We said we'd come," Dairine replied.

Roshaun nodded. "And here we are."

"Then let's go."

They entered the hall and found Miril, Nelaid, and four men seated at the table. Dairine had expected worse. They looked mostly harmless. She felt Roshaun tighten his grip on her arm slightly.

_What is it?_

Roshaun let out a barely audible breath. _It's our chief weather wizards. Apparently, I must endure lunch while listening to the four of them telling me things I already know._

_Well, I don't know what they'll tell me, so I'd like to listen,_ Dairine told him. She plastered a smile on her face and walked towards the table with Roshaun.

They sat at the table and Nelaid introduced her to the weather wizards that were present. "Frinul, Senca, Porrel, and Qwepal. This is Dhairine ke Khallahan."

Feeling formal, Dairine gave a minimal curtsy with one hand on her baggy, gauzy pants. "_Dai stiho_, cousins. I'm on errantry and I greet you."

"_Dai,_ cousin," Porrel replied. Porrel was middle-aged and wore his hair down to his shoulders. It was a little greasy, and the man had a slight paunch. He inclined his head at her and the others mimicked his gesture.

Roshaun pulled Dairine's chair out for her and she sat down next to him.

"I thought perhaps the two of you might discuss your findings with our wizards here whose specialty lies in weather wizardries. I know you have developed a few theories," Nelaid encouraged. The sooner the drought was over, the better off all of Wellakh would be.

Dairine arched an eyebrow. "Our theories are still works in progress, thank you. As soon as we have a working solution we will inform you of it."

Frinul, whose hair hung most of the way down his back and was cleaner looking than Porrel's, replied, "Don't be shy. We are quite happy to listen to what you've a mind to say."

Dairine glanced at Roshaun. He understood without silent words passing between them. "I believe the lady _has_ said what she has a mind to say." He only just managed to suppress a smile by taking a small sip from his freshly poured glass of something or other.

"Now, now, that's not right. We're all here to share our thoughts," Porrel said, frowning.

Dairine blinked at him, attempting to sound innocent. "Really? I was under the impression that we were here to enjoy a pleasant lunch." She saw the line of frowns across the table and dropped the polite voice, now all business. "We have our ideas, but we don't want to get anyone's hopes up before they are a little more concrete. Aside from that, the Guarantor and I are on errantry. The Aethyrs expect us to fix this." _Not just Them, the Wellakhi too_, thought Dairine.

He tilted his head in the Wellakhi equivalent to an Earth nod. Keeping his expression neutral, he sent out at thought to Dairine. _You almost sounded…Wellakhi there a moment ago._

_That's what I was going for. I thought the use of your title might help settle them down._ She took a roll from one of the passing servers and bit into it. Two servers were going around putting food on the plates, starting with the King of Wellakh and the King that Was.

"We choose to keep silent on our current works. We shall do what the Aethyrs tell us to do about the Isolate's effects here, just as you shall do the same. Groups that are too large never reach a consensus for the right action. If we maintain smaller groups—twos and threes—solutions of some sort can be more easily reached, though additional power may be needed to implement them."

"Can and _will_ be reached," Dairine added confidently. The servers put something on her plate that vaguely resembled macaroni; except that it was green mostly. Not quite remembering her formal title, she asked, "Lady Miril, what is this dish called?" Anything to change the subject. She was putting her foot down in regards to not feeling like talking about it with these wizards who probably figured she was just some dumb kid.

"Kouvel peng. Do you like it?"

Dairine read Lady Miril's smile easily. She knew exactly what Dairine was doing; making the sort inane conversation that would annoy the men at the table. She took a bite. "It's delicious."

"It's very difficult to make, but I can send some home with you if you would like."

"Please do."

"Do you cook?"

"No. But I can manage to reheat, I'll bet."

Roshaun looked sideways at Dairine, not having totally caught on yet. _What are you blathering about?_ It didn't sound at all like a conversation Dairine would willingly involve herself in.

Dairine smiled. _Anything that'll drive those wizards crazy with boredom._ "I do very much like the clothing that has appeared in my room during my stay." Not strictly true, she did feel as though she'd prefer to be more covered, but the clothes were generally comfortable and pretty.

_You're going to drive me crazy with boredom._ He said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"I am so glad you do. I wasn't sure what you were used to wearing."

She grinned, the innocent smile gone in place of one of her more usual looks. _Then talk about something else. _"Cargos—pants with large, useful storage pockets—and t-shirts."

Roshaun got the hint. "I do think there are some remarkable things on Earth."

"Like what?"

Roshaun moved food around on his plate before taking a bite. "Televisions for instance. The mall. Ice cream. The moon."

Dairine enjoyed glancing around at the confused expressions on the other wizard's faces. The poor things looked as though they wished they had done some research on their alien guest before coming to lunch. Oops.

As lunch ended, the tiniest bit of a frown grew on Nelaid's face.

Dairine smiled around the table indiscriminately. She forced herself to carefully stay away from Nelaid's mind. He probably was not very happy with her just now. Well, tough. She was sure the torture wasn't over yet anyway.

Nelaid said farewell to his guests as the servers cleared the table and Miril led the guests away. When they were gone, he looked sharply at Roshaun and Dairine. "I would have thought you might consider being more forthcoming with information to those who would help you build and power your spell."

Dairine shrugged. "The spell isn't here yet. We're working on it and it'll take time. In the meantime, it's hard enough to get two people to agree on anything, let alone six. We work better without interference anyway."

Roshaun's eyebrow went up a fraction of a fraction of an inch. _Double-meaning there that I'm missing?_

She hadn't planned for there to be one, so she didn't answer and decided to leave him as in the dark about the matter as she felt. "This is just another in a line of problems we've been solving. We'll get it or the Powers wouldn't have thrown our wizardry together."

"The Aethyrs say we are the solution to whatever problem They hand us; we just have to find the answer," Roshaun added. "Now, what did you exactly have in mind by way of 'appearance'? I'm sure it is not anything we can easily avoid." He glanced at Dairine.

_Probably right_. Dairine said. _Best get whatever it is done now._

"_Your_ people would like to see that you are indeed here, and working on a solution towards the deaths they feel will occur in the not so distant future should the drought persist many more months."

"I am doing all I can." He sounded _almost_ frustrated.

"They need to know this. They need you to tell them. They need to feel safe and protected."

"How the Aethyrs am I supposed to do _that_?"

Dairine reached under the table and squeezed his hand._ Breathe, Roshaun. Just breathe. _He seemed to visibly calm down after a few seconds and return more or less to normal, but she kept his hand anyway.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. _Dhairine,_ _I cannot make them feel protected if I do not feel like I can protect them and give them what they want._

Dairine answered aloud and in the Speech, murmuring softly. "_But you _can. _And you've proved it already._"

_Not to _my people_. Maybe I proved it to the Aethyrs, and perhaps I proved it to you—_

_Of course you already proved it to me, dummy. _She squeezed his hand again and didn't loosen her grip.

He actually bit his lip. _But I have not proved it to my own people yet. I may be out on errantry saving the Universe, but my people want me here._

Dairine furrowed her brows and broke out in actual speaking. "Just because you aren't bodily here every second every day doesn't mean you're not acting in their best interests. That's like a kid who wants her mom around all the time, even though she's got to go to work."

"They need to trust me…and the best way for them to trust me is for me to show that I trust them."

Dairine looked at the faraway expression in his eyes. "Are you going to—"

"Yes. I am."

"Then I'm coming too."

"You shouldn't. I'm not taking guards."

Dairine's mouth twisted in something halfway between a grin and a smirk. "I don't look like much of a guard."

Roshaun actually _laughed_ and surprised both Nelaid and Dairine. Nelaid had been sitting there, waiting, expressionless, through Dairine and Roshaun's silent conversation and the words that followed. When Roshaun's short laugh had ceased, Nelaid spoke quietly. "If I understand rightly, you will be going to the live-side, with no guard?"

His son nodded. "That is correct. No guard, just a friend." There was the slightest hesitancy on the last word, so slight that Dairine wasn't quite sure it had been there.

Dairine resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. _Weren't you the one who said "just" is a poor modifier for friendship?_

He looked over at her, a small, wry smile appearing. _If you really must fling my own words back at me so…_

She grinned.

"Consider carefully. If something goes wrong when you do this, there may be no way to remedy it. Wizardry may delay death or slow pain, but it cannot cure it entirely."

"I know that," Roshaun said, putting on a determined countenance.

"Also, I believe you are correct in taking Dhairine with you."

Dairine was startled. That was a surprise.

Roshaun shared her surprise in a slightly milder form. He had not expected his father to agree at all. He had expected to have to fight him a little, or to at least disapprove of Dairine's going along. A foreign power might not be well accepted; especially one that his people might interpret as being his consort.

Nelaid explained himself after a brief pause. "As a woman and a vertically challenged woman at that, she appears of no threat to start with. However, in actuality, she is a beast with tooth and claw. She has a fiery temper, a fierce loyalty, and strong wizardry, should anyone be attempting to sense power levels."

Dairine frowned. "Vertically challenged?"

Roshaun's mouth twitched in an amused manner. "He means you are short."

She glared at Roshaun and yanked one of his forelocks.

He glared back at her.

Nelaid continued. His tone gave little away. It changed slightly, but it was hard to tell whether he was hiding amusement or frustration. It could have been both. "While she may appear slightly frail on the outside, she also gives the appearance of mystique and something _possibly_ to be feared. She is not a Wellakhi. She is foreign and dressed as though she is powerful and important. They do not know her purpose here; only that she has been here more than once and associated closely with their Sun King."

_Valid points, Dhairine._

Dairine grinned. _I'm tough to get rid of. _Her face sobered up._ But I'm not letting you go liveside alone whether you want me there or not._

He raised an eyebrow. _Do I not get a say in the matter?_

_Not if I can help it; you shouldn't go alone_.

"My only warning is that you do not tarry on the live side over long, nor say anything antagonistic. Do not do anything to put yourself in greater open risk."

"Merely by going I put myself at greater open risk," Roshaun commented dryly.

"You know what he means, Roshaun. Don't do anything stupid," Dairine said fiercely, locking eyes with him.

Roshaun opened his mouth.

_Nothing stupider or braver than you've already done by deciding to go, alright?_ admonished Dairine.

Roshaun did something that surprised both himself and Dairine. Nelaid registered no surprise that either of the other two could notice, but then again, they weren't watching him. Roshaun took Dairine's hands and brought them to his forehead. Dairine simply looked at him; the last time she'd seen him do this was when she had met his mother.


	14. Speaking

**Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize belongs to the great Diane Duane.

**Author's Note:** It's been ages, I know. I'm sorry. I feel worse for my HP readers because it's been even longer since I've updated any of those stories. I've had most of this chapter written for a while now, and didn't know where it was going. So today I finally managed the last 2 paragraphs. I'm on Thanksgiving break now. I haven't had much writing time since college started, but I'm really happy here. I'll try and update things more frequently.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Speaking**

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_

Dairine stood beside Roshaun in the center square of a small town. Wellakh was beautiful. The horizon stretched far into the distance, healthy vegetation was a greenish-blue, and the rocks were more orange or tan than brown or gray.

They had decided that it would be better to visit a few small towns or villages first, and then end in the city.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No. The longer we tarry in the smaller towns, the more time there is to assemble something to greet me with in the city. We ought to get there as soon as possible. This isn't a good idea; but it is the best we can do."

Dairine looked at the semi-hostile faces gathering around them. There was some confusion in the air, a lot of surprise, some bitterness and anger. It suddenly occurred to her that she was getting better at picking up emotions. Maybe she could handle sentient beings after all.

The crowd grew and at last, Roshaun spoke. His voice was steady. "I know you feel I deserted you. I didn't. Rest assured that regardless of whether or not I am always on Wellakh, I left the planet in capable hands. I am only attempting to act in its—and more importantly _your_—best interest. I am not perfect; but I'm doing what I can as quickly and efficiently as I can manage." That was more or less the gist of his speech. The only thing was, it wasn't just a speech, it was said in the Speech. The language that couldn't be lied in.

Dairine attempted to read the crowd's reaction again. Some confusion was still there, and skepticism, but at the same time, there were a few positive feelings from the few who knew the Speech and recognized it. There was still anger in the air, though it had calmed a little. Mostly there was wonderment. What was the Sun King doing in their part of the world, and without a guard? Who was the woman beside him? Were the rumors they had heard true?

Before Dairine could open her mouth, Roshaun had scanned the crowd again and transported them to their next location. They visited two more after that, much the same. The next transport brought them somewhere different entirely. They were in a good-sized cave overlooking a valley. In the valley was the largest city on Wellakh. Half of the planet's population (possibly more) lived there.

"No one has tried to kill me so far today," Roshaun said frankly. "I am willing to accept that as a good sign."

"Have we hit everywhere yet?" Dairine asked, knowing the answer wasn't yes.

"No, I chose a few small places at random. This, however, is the true test. I am not sure how this will go." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I have not been on the liveside of the planet in a very long time. The air is not so burnt and crisp here. It is still fresh; like Earth." He breathed again.

Dairine smiled. Earth air? Fresh? She wanted to laugh.

"I want to thank you, Dhairine."

She blinked. "For what?"

"Were it not for you, I might still be stranded on that asteroid in sp—"

Dairine held up a hand. "Forget about it, Roshaun."

"Does my life mean so little, even to you, that its being saved needs to be forgotten?" he asked. He sounded like he wanted to be playful, but wasn't, couldn't be. He didn't have the heart or the energy for it.

Dairine thought she sensed a hint of genuine sadness too. "Of course not. Don't be stupid like that. Of course you mean more…"

Roshaun took one of her hands, but did not look Dairine in the eye. He started at the floor, a little to the left of his right shoe. "If, by chance or fate, I do not return to the Palace—"

"Don't say that," she said sharply. "Don't."

"Dhairine…" His voice was plaintive.

"Look, there's no talk about you not coming back. _I'm_ here, and between the two of us, we can tackle anything. You've got to come back because _we've_ got the water issue to work out, not to mention, the government here can't stay the way it is, and you just can't not come back. You can't." This wasn't even really errantry. He couldn't not come back from it. Sure Neets had lost friends along the way, and Kit had even just recently lost Ponch, but not her. She lost Roshaun on the moon and thought she'd never see him anywhere but Timeheart. That wasn't going to happen again. Not yet. Not now that he was back.

And suddenly Dairine knew that if she needed to, she would stand between Roshaun and the energy weapons she had seen, or whatever else came for him.

"Dhairine…" He struggled, not knowing how or what to say. "Dhairine." His chin rested on her head. Her arms wound around him every bit as tightly as his around her in a bone-crushing hug, her face pressed against his chest. There weren't any words, or any need for there to be.

Eventually Dairine let go. "You've got a job to do," she said, working to keep her voice controlled. She managed, just barely.

"And I will do it." He didn't let go of her. Instead he pulled her back into a quick hug and then let go. As they recited the transport spell, he took her hand again.

They reappeared just outside of a low, long maroon colored building. "That is the administration building fro the city's day to day needs. Garbage, courier service, and so forth."

He gave her a quiet tour of the city, walking at a brisk pace. Eventually Dairine managed to see where their ultimate destination would be: an open meadow that ran into the foothills of the surrounding mountains.

Roshaun and Dairine stood with their backs to solid rock, slightly elevated from the meadow by the large, mostly flat natural rock slab they were on. They waited. Roshaun hadn't gone shielded or under any sort of illusion charm through the city. They knew he was there; all that was necessary was to wait.

They had been standing for ten minute when Roshaun started to look concerned. "People should have started to arrive by now," he said quietly.

"Well, what did you expect? That they'd drop everything immediately to listen to you speak?"

"Yes. That is the way it usually works. I do not think this is a very good sign."

"Look," Dairine said, glancing off to the right. People were coming. Granted, there were only two of them, but they were starting to arrive.

Roshaun blinked. "Children. Those are children."

"Hey, nothing wrong with that. After all, at least _they_ are here."

Roshaun said nothing, but the clearing began to fill. And fill.

At last, no more people came.

There was silence.

Dairine squeezed his hand encouragingly. "Go on. Your people are waiting. Say something."

Roshaun looked at all the faces. What was there to say? "I am here, as you see me. Though I have been off planet of late, know that I go only in your interests, and the interests of all concerned." The faces were mostly impassive, with some skeptical and others wondering what their King was playing at, because after all, he had left and returned with this alien. Whose interests were important to him anymore? "_I dearly love Wellakh and would sooner die that allow trouble to happen without intervening to the best of my abilities_." He had slipped into the Speech. "_I know it may not seem so, but even if I am not here, I am still doing my best to do right by all of you. If I must go off-planet, I leave stewardship in the most capable hands available, the hands of the Sun-King that was._" He took a deep breath and glanced at Dairine out of the corner of his eye.

She nodded slightly. He was doing fine. There were a few hotspots in the crowd, difficult to pin down, but generally, mood was not growing worse. It was even improving many cases. She could read the improvement occasionally in a face, but mostly she was sensing these emotions in her mind. She sent tranquil, soothing thoughts to Roshaun.

"We are working on a solution to the water shortage as quickly as we can manage. I promise you that. _I am trying my very best to be the King you deserve. On and off planet, I will do my best to protect you._"

"LIES!" screamed a voice from the crowd. A short dagger came flying through the air and everything seemed to happen at once.

Dairine threw a shield spell over herself and Roshaun. Someone in the crowd raised something heavy—possibly a shoe—and knocked the dagger to the ground. Two others in the crowd grabbed the man who had thrown the knife by the arms. A second knife came from a little off to the left and was stopped—by whose wizardry, no one knew—and two more men in the crowd pushed their way to the individual who had thrown it and apprehended him.

Dairine looked around. All motion seemed to have stopped. She carefully looked Roshaun over. Not a scratch on him. She checked herself over quickly. She was fine too. She let the force field down and added a silencing spell. "What do you normally do with attempted assassins around here?"

Roshaun furrowed his brow. "I do not know the last time we actually caught them. Even with failed attempts, they usually get away."

"Oh, good, then we can set a precedent." She was about to lift the spell.

"Do you know what is strangest about this?" asked Roshaun.

Dairine paused. "What?"

"The ones who stopped the attack and caught the assassins are not members of my guard. I do not believe I have ever seen these men before."

She smiled and lifted the silencing spell. "Why don't you call the men over and we'll take them to the palace?"

The four men holding the two assassins at bay dragged the criminals over. Dairine and Roshaun created handcuffs out of strings of Speech characters. The King and Dairine drew up the transport spell and transported the eight of them to the throne room. His father and mother were immediately sent for as well as more guards. "So, we have brought them here, where does your idea go from there?"

"Find out their motives. Question them. What sort of penal system do you have here?"

"There is a jail, halfway between here and the liveside."

A dozen guards arrived and Dairine pulled Roshaun into an adjoining room to continue the discussion away from ears. The guards could handle things fine.

"If you imprison them for a few decades, they'll want to hurt you more than ever when they get out. If you incarcerate them for life, well, they shouldn't get out. Attempted murder would probably be worth prison for life, and you could add the charge of treason against the country to it," Dairine said thoughtfully.

"I need to be stern and in power, but not a ruthless dictator."

"You wouldn't be a ruthless dictator for locking up men who tried to kill you."

"I suppose…"

Dairine rolled her eyes. "Do you realize how much you accomplished this afternoon? Not only did you did you go to the liveside and speak to your people from the heart—and there were definite changes in sentiment during your speeches. I was paying attention to your audience. I wasn't the person who stopped the assassins, and neither were your guards—your own people stopped them. What does that tell you?"

Roshaun nodded. "It tells me a great deal. They may truly accept me in time."

Dairine smiled. He was right. This might work.

* * *

In a matter of hours, the two would-be-assassins were firmly locked behind bars after being questioned thoroughly by Roshaun, Dairine, and the head of Roshaun's guards. Now Roshaun was putting on his most fancy robe and collar on in his room, and Dairine was in her own room trying to design something appropriate to wear for the occasion. After all, it was not every day that the King of Wellakh announced that he was planning to reform the government. Then again, that announcement had thus far only been for Dairine's ears. He would tell his parents tonight after dinner. The celebration was to honor the men who had saved his life.

She tried to gauge how casual she would be allowed to be. Probably not very. Maybe she shouldn't design something new. She still had the emerald. She could bring back the green dress she wore the first time she came to Wellakh. A single wizardry would retrieve it from her closet in a moment. She grinned. So, she'd be a few hours later than she promised Neets. Maybe she just wouldn't sleep tonight; she'd still get her work done. "Spot?"


	15. Home?

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters or this setting. They are property of Diane Duane._

**Author's Note:** Okay, please don't massacre me. It's been a very long time, but hey, none of my Harry Potter stories have been updated at all since I started school in August. I think you guys got one update in all this time. I'm sorry. However, the last chapter is finally done. It's not particularly long, or brilliant, but this chapter and this story have come to a close at last. There may be a sequel if you really want one. I've got a one-shot that's forming in my head and so I might write that, or it could grow into the sequel if that's what you want. Anyway, thanks for all your support while I wrote this. I'm glad to have found other Dairine/Roshaun fans out there. If anybody has any clue when the next book is coming out, let me know, because I'm anxious for it. You've been great reviewers, thanks again!

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**Chapter 15: Home?**

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Dairine heard the knock at the door and didn't even bother to turn around. She had been here long enough to know who was knocking. She set down the hairbrush she'd been using. "Come in."

Roshaun entered the room and saw Dhairine seated at the vanity. He crossed to the mirror she sat at and surreptitiously checkd his reflection. Every hair was in place; his clothing was neat. Perfection. He had self-consciously adjusted the collar that held the Sun stone before he stepped in, wishing he had left it on the Speech chain Dhairine had put it on. Well, it was too late to do anything about it now.

"I'm just about ready," Dairine said.

Roshaun glanced at Dhairine. She was wearing _that_ green dress. And she had already brushed her hair. His fingers ran through the ends of her hair and rested lightly at the base of her neck.

Dairine stiffened for a brief moment. Why wasn't he saying anything?

He came back to himself and his hand dropped like a lead weight to his side. "We had better be going, I suppose."

She stood and smoothed out her dress. "Yes, we should."

Wordlessly he offered his arm to her; in that same silence she took it and they started off for where his parents and their guests were waiting.

Halfway through the first course, Dairine noticed an intruder in her head. _Dhairine?_

She decided not to look at him, but to outwardly appear focused on her dinner and watching the conversation going on at the other end of the table. _What is it?_

_I—Never mind.  
_She looked curiously over at him. What was it with him tonight? _Not "never mind." Spill._

_Do you have to go back _tonight

Dairine frowned. _I don't want to go back yet, but I do have to. I should have gone back hours ago. Neets and Dad'll be furious as it is. _She pushed the food around on her plate. She didn't really feel like eating anymore.

_I need to talk to you after dinner._

_Why not now?_

Roshaun didn't answer verbally or mentally. He just looked over at her. His face said all that needed saying: Please?

She nodded slightly and let herself be drawn back into the conversation at the table.

"And so, you are an engineer?" she asked.

"Yes, that's right, Your Ladyship," responded one of the men who had grabbed the first assassin. "I design transport vehicles."

"And I build them, Your Ladyship," responded the man next to him.

"What fuel source do they run off of?" asked Dairine, curiously.

"Solar energy, Your…Miss…" He seemed at a loss for what title to refer to Dairine by.

" 'Dairine' will do just fine."

"Dhairine." The name felt funny on his tongue.

"We haven't perfected particularly good solar energy yet where I'm from, at least, not with transport vehicles. Would you explain it?"

The man eagerly talked about the solar power necessary and the strength of the receiving device. Most of it did make sense to Dairine. For starters, her own sun was less powerful than Wellakh's. However, parts of the man's design could influence solar powered devices back home. One step closer to no longer relying on pollutant heavy fossil fuels…

Aside from the conversation about solar energy, the remainder of the meal seemed to pass slowly. Dairine found herself stealing glances at Roshaun, trying to understand what he was feeling by looking at him and not by entering his mind. She very carefully avoided his mind. It wouldn't be right to just invade it when he said he wanted to talk later. However, glancing over at him repeatedly was distracting her from the rest of the table conversation--mostly because almost half the time she looked, she caught him looking back.

When the meal had ended, Dairine was hoping for dancing, as there had been on the first night. The men had not brought there wives with them to the Palace however and instead musicians were called for, for their listening pleasure. Dairine was restless and sat impatiently at the table, attempting to be interested in the sweet sounding music and not anxious about her upcoming talk with Roshaun. Had he changed his mind about reforming the government?

At the end of the performance, Roshaun dutifully saw his guests out. His father accompanied him. As he left the room, Roshaun sent his mind to Dairine. _Do not leave yet._

_Alright_. Roshaun had been less talkative than usual this evening at dinner. His mother had noticed.

"Something appears to be on his mind." She was standing next to Dairine, watching her son and husband disappear.

"What?" asked Dairine, startled. She hadn't realized Miril was still in the room.

"I said that something appears to be on my son's mind." Lady Miril sat down beside Dairine.

"Yeah." _I wish I knew what_, Dairine thought glumly to herself.

Lady Miril glanced at the door her son had exited. "He seemed particularly distracted at dinner. Sad too."

"He's been sulkier than usual the last day or so," Dairine said, frowning.

"I do not think he is quite ready to see you leave yet," Lady Miril said, a delicate smile gracing her face.

"I'm having fun. It's not as if I want to leave. I like it here. But I have responsibilities at home. I can't stay here forever, and I can't stay here another day." A little voice in Dairine's head asked, _Why not? Why can't you stay forever?_

"Dhairine, for our part, neither Nelaid nor I would keep you from staying here. I doubt Roshaun would raise any objections either." Miril was entirely sincere.

"But…it's crazy! I have a life back home. My dad's there. And Nita. And Kit. What about school? If I drop out, the school system'll hound my dad. I'm not a likely dropout candidate." Dropout? Where had that even come from? She wasn't even considering this.

"The offer is here."

"I have to go back today. I promised…"

"And a wizard's word is her bond. I understand. I'll have someone collect your things." With a brief hug, Miril stood and glided away.

A voice spoke, startling Dairine. She wasn't sure when he had reentered the room, but he was only a few feet away, only the table between them. "My mother is right, you know. You could stay." He sounded not quite eager, but quiet, intrigued.

"Stay as what?" This was ludicrous.

"As anything you want. Chief advisor, friend, ambassador, expert on extracting star iron, what does it matter? You _could _stay."

"It's crazy." She stood up.

"What is so crazy about it?"

This was not the quiet, aloof Roshaun she'd known. The worst part was that Dairine could not for the life of her imagine any good reason to go back at that moment. Why shouldn't she stay? Finally, "I have work to do there." There were still problems with the developing life on Jupiter's moon, and not to mention at least half a dozen other projects she was in the middle of working on.

"You do have work to do here. You yourself have said as much."

"There's my family. And my education to think of."

"Your family could come," he said obstinately.

Dairine looked around the empty room for support and then back at him. "They have lives and plans, Roshaun."

"And what about you?" He walked around the side of the table to stand next to Dairine.

"I don't have plans. I'm too young for plans! But I want to get a driver's license! Finish high school! Go to college!"

"You don't want to stay," he said softly. "I understand."

"It's not that I don't want to. It's that I _can't_. Besides, give me one good reason why I should." He really hadn't offered her a single good reason throughout the argument. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him in true Dairine fashion.

Roshaun appeared as though he was in pain, and as though he might be ill. "Have I not made it clear, painfully clear, perhaps clearer than I ought to have in the past few days?"

Dairine said nothing, tried to keep her face neutral. There'd been times when she thought he was saying things this week, but she'd never been sure. She couldn't be sure unless he said something outright.

"One good reason?" She nodded in answer to his question and he took a step towards her. His response was fierce. "_Because I want you here. With me._"

He used the Speech. He wanted her to stay.

He started to lean forward and Dairine, with customary impatience, tugged his faced towards her. And they kissed. Lips tugged eagerly at one another for what felt like an eternity, but that eternity was nowhere near long enough. Images flashed between them. Dairine saw a thousand suns, shining brightly. She watched Roshaun disappear into her own sun back home. Warmth. Light.

In Roshaun's mind, he saw Dhairine. There was darkness, but the darkness seemed to shine brightly, coolly—utterly Dharine. His Dhairine.

They broke apart and Dairine caught her breath and looked up at Roshaun, who was wearing a rather wry smile.

"You couldn't allow me to create a romantic moment and pull _you_ in for the kiss?" he asked.

Blushing just a little, Dairine grinned and shrugged. "Guess not."

"Somehow, I think that was entirely appropriate."

Dairine was about to agree and offer him the opportunity to pull her in for the "romantic moment" when Nelaid and Miril reentered. Behind them was a maid, carrying Dairine's belongings. Spot, who had disappeared some time earlier, skittered along behind her.

"Are you sure you won't change your mind about staying, _tekeh_?"

"You are of course more than welcome," added Nelaid.

Dairine shook her head and caught a brief look of surprise on Roshaun's face. His mother's offer was sweet, but… "I can't stay now. But I'll be back as soon as I can." She looked over at Roshaun. _I promise._

Roshaun raised one eyebrow fractionally. _I'll hold you to that._

_I expect you to._ She put her arms around Miril and hugged her tight. Nelaid took her hands and raised them to his forehead. She looked at Roshaun. _Didn't you have an announcement to make about the future of your planet?_

He looked at her. _I'll take care of it. This is something I've got to do on my own._

Dairine eyed him suspiciously.

_I'll tell them about my plans. I didn't want to do it at dinner in front of everyone,_ he reasoned.

It made sense. _I'll see you soon_. She hugged him. If she stayed any longer, she might not be able to make herself leave tonight. She hugged Miril and Nelaid and took her bags from the maid.

Nelaid and Roshaun opened a world gate for her; she'd be spending enough energy on the jump alone.

"Might I have a chance to say goodbye to Dhairine? Alone?"

The maid had already left and Miril and Nelaid exited also to give them a moment alone.

"I am going to miss you," he said stiffly.

"Don't talk like that," she told him, almost in a whine. "It's not as if I'm not coming back, Roshaun. I'll _be_ back. Sooner than you know it."

He said nothing.

"I'm going to miss you too."

He smiled. He'd been waiting for her to say that.

They kissed one more time. "Come visit me anytime." With a deep breath she stepped through the world gate and emerged at the Crossings. She found Sker'ret, assured him that everything was alright, and she continued on, finally appearing in her own backyard. She was home.

The sky was dark. It had to be close to midnight. With a resigned breath at whatever her coming punishment would be, she opened the backdoor. "Dad! Neets! I'm home!"

"Dairine?"

"Runt, is that you?"

As Dairine entered the kitchen, Nita, her dad, and Kit all came out of the living room. Neets got to her first and hugged her, reminding her not to solar system like that without telling anyone _ever_ again. Dairine allowed herself to be hugged by everyone and hugged them back, not arguing…for the moment. She planned to go back to Wellakh just as soon as she could manage, but for now, it was good to be home.

"Dairine, we were getting really worried about you. Don't do that again."

She winced. Her father looked hurt.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I just needed to know. I needed to find him."

"You're very loyal, Dari. No one can fault you on that. Do you want some dinner?"

She smiled. "No thanks, I ate. I'll take a lemon soda though if we have one."

Nita shook her head. "We're all out."

"You can grab one from my fridge, if you want," offered Kit.

Nita crossed the room. "I'll get it, I'm better at talking the fridge into doing what I want."

Dairine's dad hugged her again and pointed her in the right direction to go upstairs. "You need to get to work on your homework. I assume it's not done yet?"

She gave a weak cough. "I've been sick."

Mr. Callahan looked down at his younger daughter. "I believe that. However, you're going to school tomorrow come Powers or high water and you need to have you work done tonight. We can talk about your punishment tomorrow."

She whined a little. "Straight home after school?" she asked, hoping to earn a few points.

"No. Tom and Carl want to see you right after school to discuss your punishment from them and your situation with the Powers. Straight home after that. Upstairs now, it's late. Goodnight."

"Good night, Dad." Dairine started from the room, without her soda.

"Darine?"

She stopped and turned to look at him. "Yeah, Dad?"

"I'm glad you're home safe and sound."

She smiled and left. Mr. Callahan turned his attention to Nita and Kit, who were standing near the kitchen table talking. "It's late, you probably ought to be heading home soon, Kit, before your mother worries."

Kit replied, "I'll leave soon, Mr. Callahan, I promise. I called my parents earlier at let them know I'd be home a little late since I wanted to make sure Dairine got home safe."

"Alright. Good night, Nita. Good night, Kit. And, Nita, don't forget to take one of those sodas to your sister."

Nita got up and gave her dad a hug. "Good night, Dad. I'll see you in the morning."

When they were sure Nita's dad was out of earshot, Kit asked, "So what do you think, Dairine did while she was there all this time? She's been gone for days."

"I don't know, but I think the Powers have something in mind for her there. She'll be going back, I know it." She sat down and slumped a little in the chair, opening one of the sodas up. She took a sip.

"If she gets reassigned there's not much your dad or even Tom and Carl can do to tether her here. So much for her getting grounded." He took Nita's open soda and had a swig.

She shot a look at him as he put the soda back in her hand.

He looked at her innocently. "What?"

Nita just shook her head at him. At the end of the day he was always still so…Kit. "We aren't going to find out anything about what happened sitting down here."

Kit grinned and started off after Dairine. "Now, we'll see what was really going on."

"No, Kit."

"What?" He stopped.

Nita stood up and grabbed her soda. "I want to talk to Dairine on my own. I'll fill you in tomorrow."

Kit looked a little glum, but said, "Alright. You've probably got a better shot at getting information out of her than I do anyway. I'll see you before school?"

"Sure, get here early and you can have pancakes."

Kit grinned. "Pancakes, and the details of what Dairine's been up to."

"Deal."

There was a short silence. Not quite awkward, but apparent.

"So are you walking, or using the transit circle?" Nita asked, looking at the table.

"Might as well not walk. As it is it's late and Mama will be worried."

They both headed for the back door. Nita walked him outside to the backyard and shivered as the night air hit her. She wished she had a jacket on, but it hadn't been worth grabbing one for the few minutes it would take for Kit to set up his spell. It was one of the ready-made one he tended to carry with him.

Soon enough, he was done. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Kit."

"'Night, Nita." They hugged briefly and Kit stepped into his circle. He spoke and vanished. Nita wandered the backyard for a couple of minutes, putting a hand on her favorite rowan tree. She looked up and saw the light on in her sister's window and went back in, grabbing her sister's lemon soda on her way through. Dairine's door was open and Dairine sat on her bed, book balanced on her knees as she worked. Nita stayed in the doorway.

"Hey, Dari. You okay?"

Dairine didn't look up from her work. "He kissed me. Or rather, I kissed him."

"What happened?" Nita asked. She found herself unsurprised.

Dairine put her book down and wrapped her arms around her knees. "I found him, all alone and we went back to Wellakh. There was a big fancy dinner. I was going to go home, but I got sick that night. Neets, he took care of me for three days. And then he got sick, and I took care of him. We were trying to sort out the drought problem Wellakh's having. It's getting more severe. Nita, I almost didn't come home. Do you know that?" She looked up at her sister sharply. "He didn't want me to leave. And I had a hard time thinking of a good reason to go. And…we kissed." She looked a little miserable.

"Do you wish you hadn't?"

Dairine didn't even have to think about. "No."

Nita looked at her little sister; the little sister who sometimes seemed not so little. She smiled and sat down next to her, handing her the drink. "I don't blame you, Dari. I fell in love with the proverbial boy-next-door. I can't blame you for falling for the exotic mystery man. You always did set your sights a little more out of this world."

Dairine hugged Nita. "One of these days Kit'll come around, Neets."

She smiled wryly. "I'd like to hope so, but with guys, you never can tell."

"They can be pretty thick. How long have Roshaun and I been running circles around each other? Well, not as long as you and Kit."

Nita chuckled. "We haven't had a lot of these heart-to-heart sister talks lately. I don't think we've ever really talked about boys. Not without you flat out teasing me anyway."

"I'm sorry. I honestly hadn't meant to make everyone worry this week." She paused. "And I'm sorry I always gave you a hard time about Kit. It doesn't mean I won't still do it, but I think I know how you feel a little bit."

Nita laughed. "I'll take what I can get on that I guess." She looked uncomfortable for minute. "Dairine, I don't know if Mom ever got the chance to talk to you or not about boys…and girls, before she—"

Dairine groaned. "Neets, Dad already tried this. I don't need the talk. I know all the mechanics of it and I'm not going to do anything stupid. Trust me, I don't have the need to create any new life forms any time soon." She paused. "Well, let's put it this way, I don't have the need to create any new life forms any time soon that will come out of _me_. Sentinent computers or single celled organisms on other planets is fully acceptable."

"Alright. Get your work done then. You've got a lot of catching up to do." Nita hugged her sister one more time and went off to sleep. She was tired.

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She was exhausted when she finally went to bed.

Dairine dreamed that night of Timeheart. Her mother was there, down in the kitchen. Her bedroom was there, covered in the glories of Star Wars and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that weren't there in waking life. As she touched one of the books, part of the shelving swung out. There was a hole in her Timeheart that she couldn't remember being there before. A worldgate. She stepped through it and into the gardens of the Wellakh palace.

She awoke the next morning with a smile on her face.

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**THE END**


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